Reflections in the Dark
by bunjamina66
Summary: When the boys accidentally activate an Ancient device similar to the Quantum Mirror found by SG-1, their doubles from an alternate reality come through.
1. Chapter 1

**Reflections in the Dark**

**By Flossy**

Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fan fiction, and as such is for fan enjoyment only. All recognizable characters/settings are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is made. I've only borrowed them and I am NOT promising to put them back when I've finished playing with them…

Summary: When the boys accidentally activate an Ancient device similar to the Quantum Mirror found by SG-1, their doubles from an alternate reality come through. Everything seems fine to begin with, but when the device is broken, John and Rodney learn that their doppelgangers may not be as benevolent as they first thought…

Central Character(s): John, Rodney, Teyla, Ronon, Elizabeth, Radek, Carson, Lorne.

Category (ies): Drama, Angst, H/C, friendship

Placement: Season Three, sometime after 'McKay and Mrs Miller'

Rating: +15

Spoilers: Biggies for 'McKay and Mrs Miller', little references for 'Before I Sleep', 'Runner',

A/N: I know, I know, it's been ages since I've written anything, but I've had the ever dreaded writer's block and a damn viral chest infection that turned into pneumonia... *shudders in horror*

As a result, I've been performing all manner of voodoo rituals to try and overcome it, but it took the badgers and their dastardly, homicidal ways to kick start my brain. They mauled several stuffed animals and almost decapitated one of my poor little plot bunnies.

And don't get me started on the botched hospital escape attempts while I was out of commission – although, they sparked an idea for a fic...

Again, yet another story adapted from a challenge. This one was from the Wraithbait site – I only adapted it because I don't write Slash fic (Sorry to disappoint, kids, but even though I'll read it, I'm not that kind of gal…). The idea was an awesome one though, so this is my Gen effort.

If y'all like it, then I might try and do a series of AU tales for Dark!Rodney and Dark!John… NO! **NAUGHTY PLOT BUNNY!!!**

_____________________________________________________________________

**Chapter 1: ****Just Another Regular Day in Pegasus…**

Of all the people in the world he could have chosen, Dr Rodney McKay would never have guessed that he'd end up best friends with an irritating, cocky air force pilot with a penchant for kamikaze heroics every now and again.

Okay, so the man was loyal, quick witted and actually put up with his rants and neuroses, but still… As much as he respected the man, there were times when Atlantis' CO drove Rodney to the edge of what was left of his precious sanity.

If he thought that today would be any different, McKay was sadly mistaken.

"For the last time, Sheppard, it is NOT a mirror!"

Lt Col John Sheppard grinned. For the last two hours he had been trying to see if he could make Rodney snap and at last, he'd done it. "Are you positive about that?" he asked in his most innocent voice. "Cos from where I'm standing it sure looks like one to me."

McKay let out a strangled growl. It wasn't even as if John couldn't understand the physics behind the object that was stood in front of them – the man was a closet maths geek after all – and Rodney shook his head. He had had to repeat himself constantly for no better reason than to apparently keep Sheppard's head from exploding with boredom. Ever since the pair of them had found the 'device' three days ago, he'd had to explain time and time again why said object was not a mirror.

At least, not in the normal sense.

The Canadian conceded (albeit reluctantly) that the pilot did have a point – the artefact looked for all intents and purposes like an old fashioned full length mirror. It certainly wouldn't have been out of place in a Victorian period manor or country house, with its elegantly crafted sides and shaped frame. The only differences were that the frame was not made from oak or any other exotic timber – it was a similar alloy to that of the walls and doors in Atlantis – and that the carvings were not a floral design but Ancient symbols.

As for the mirror part itself – well that was a different matter entirely.

The surface was not made of glass, despite the fact that it resembled said element. Even with Zelenka's help, that particular fact was all that McKay had been able to determine after a series of tests. Scans and trace had determined that there was no evidence of any kind of explosive substance and X-rays had proved to be a waste of time – as soon as Carson had turned the machine on, it shorted out along with half of the lights in the city. Rodney had said something about it emitting an energy that interfered with the Earth equipment, but had been talking at a million miles an hour at the time, so John had tuned most of the explanation out.

Truth be told, all they'd been able to figure out after a lot of arguing was a long list of what the material was not – and they were no closer to discovery.

"I'm not listening," Rodney shot back with an evil glower – or 'death glare number 25' as Sheppard liked to call it.

John smirked, earning an eye roll from the scientist. Rodney knew damn well that 'McKay-baiting', as the Air Force man was wont to calling it, was one of Sheppard's all-time favourite methods of stress relief and today was no exception. "When do you ever?"

"Shut up." Not his finest comeback, but efficient and to the point.

"I'm just saying…"

"La, la, la, not listening." McKay stuck his fingers in his ears and hummed part of a Chopin piano study loudly.

From what he could see, it took all of Sheppard's self control not to burst out laughing. Instead, he nudged his team-mate in the ribs with an elbow. "Found anything out yet?"

Still scowling, Rodney ceased his impression of his four year old niece, Madison, and sighed. "Not yet. Radek's still looking through the Ancient database, but so far…"

"No luck?"

"No luck." He returned his attention to the laptop in front of him. He had set up a scanner to try and glean more information, but it was proving to be as frustrating as everything else to do with the artefact. The infernal machine kept insisting that the material didn't exist.

'To paraphrase the Colonel, _bullshit_,' Rodney thought. The Ancients may have been advanced but he doubted that even they could invent elements out of thin air.

"So if it's not a normal mirror, what is it?"

McKay continued typing, not looking up. "I'm not entirely sure, but I think it's the Ancient version of a Quantum Mirror."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sheppard's forehead crease in confusion for a second before the alarm bells apparently decided to sound. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! You mean the thing that sent Daniel Jackson to an alternate reality? The one that was sent to Area 51 for study?" He thought for a moment and then added, "And didn't an alternate version of Carter come through it?"

"How the hell did you know that?" Rodney asked, raising his head to give his team-mate an incredulous look.

"What?" asked John, looking genuinely affronted. "I _do_ actually read SG-1's old mission reports you know."

"Then you should know how dangerous the Quantum Mirror was!" McKay snapped. "So, no touching that! The last thing we want is to end up in a parallel universe where the Goa'uld, Wraith or Replicators are in control!"

"Look, it's been two weeks!" John moaned. "Two weeks, and you still don't know what this thing _actually _does!"

"That's not only untrue, but woefully inaccurate," Rodney shot back, eyeing his coffee cup with disdain. He glanced at the carafe in the corner and growled when he saw it was empty. That meant he'd have to go next door to steal (or rather 'borrow without asking') some of Zelenka's.

"But…"

"For the last time, Sheppard, no! It's a simple enough word that I'm sure even one of your dumber jarheads can understand!"

"I know what the word means, Rodney," Sheppard sighed.

Rodney ploughed on, mainly to try and irritate the pilot. "An interjection used to indicate a negative response in order to refuse, deny or disagree with something – or in this case, some _one_."

John gave the physicist another one of his well cultivated innocent looks… and was met with a glower that could melt ice. "Aw, c'mon, Rodney! What harm could it do? It's just a mirror."

Unfortunately, that just set McKay off on a colossal rant.

"Did you even listen to what I just said? Am I speaking Genii or something? The last time I checked, no means no! As in never, under any circumstances whatsoever! And don't even think about giving me the puppy dog look! It has never and will never work." Rodney counted to ten under his breath, trying to resist the urge to cause bodily harm to the pilot. He reasoned that if he went all 'Texas Chainsaw Massacre' on Sheppard's ass, he'd only have to clean up the blood.

His eyes narrowed dangerously and the next words he spoke came out in a low, menacing growl – a nifty trick that he'd picked up from Ronon. "I mean it, Sheppard. I know what you and your genes are like. Stay well away from it, d'you hear me? And no thinking 'on' or anything equally stupid!"

"Okay, okay, McKay!" the Colonel said, taking a step back with his hands raised. "I get it. Mirror bad, no touching." He waited for a moment before asking, "Why don't you turn it on?" The question was deliberate jibe: John already knew why that would be an incredibly stupid thing to do.

"Have you forgotten what happened last time?!"

Sheppard bit back a grin. 'Last time' was about three months ago when Rodney activated a different artefact without trying to find out more first. It had taken the scientist the better part of two weeks to get his voice back. "I'll never forget," he baited. "No moaning, no ranting, no terrorising your staff… Hell, it was two weeks of pure bliss."

"You think you're so funny…"

"Hey, I don't think, I _am_."

The Canadian gave him one of his patented death glares. "I'm going to get some coffee," he stated, picking up his mug. "In fact, I'll rephrase that. I'm going next door for a couple of minutes. Don't touch anything."

"As if I would," John said, doing his best impression of wounded and put-upon.

"Yeah, and I once met a Wraith called Bambi," Rodney snorted. "I mean it, Colonel. Do. Not. Touch. Anything. Until. I. Get. Back." He punctuated every word with a small poke to John's chest.

"Okay, already! Jeez, Rodney, you're such an old woman!" Sheppard held his hands up in compliance and backed away from the work bench.

Apparently satisfied, McKay raised an eyebrow then nodded and trotted out of the lab in search of caffeine.

As soon as the doors slid closed, John stepped closer to the 'not-mirror'. Although he would never admit it out loud, he was intrigued – the machine was stunning in every sense of the word and he found it hard to comply with McKay's order. As much as it rattled him that Rodney refused to activate the damn thing, he understood his friend's reluctance. McKay had only lost his voice, but it could have been much worse. Even that had been pretty scary – somehow 'silent Rodney' was far more intimidating than 'bellowing Rodney' and by the end of the two weeks, John had decided that he preferred the second.

"Hey! I told you not to touch anything!" Rodney yelled, stepping back into the lab, hot coffee in his hands.

"I wasn't!" John protested, hastily taking several steps back. "I only looked at it!"

McKay rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the computer, fully convinced that the words of warning had gone in one ear and out the other without so much as a courtesy call on John's woefully neglected brain.

Still, the Colonel was giving him the 'I'm really interested and think this is cool' look, so Rodney forgave his friend and elaborated. "It seems to be different to the Milky Way version of the Quantum Mirror, you know."

"Really?" John asked, suddenly curious. "How so?"

"Well for a start, the Quantum Mirror that Jackson stumbled across lead to a variety of alternate realities. That much was proved when Sam's double came through with an alternate Major Kawalsky. This one doesn't do that..."

"So what's it for then?" John cut in impatiently.

"Just listen to me for more than thirty seconds at a time! As I was saying, this… 'mirror', for lack of a better word, only seems to go to one reality."

Sheppard stared at his reflection intently. "What's the point in that? I mean, I admit it'd be cool to see how different things are in another dimension, but why only one?"

"That's the question." Rodney typed away on his laptop. "As soon as I've finished the translations of the inscriptions, I should be able to answer it, but until then, your guess is as good as mine."

He continued to half watch Sheppard as he worked – Rule number one from the Geek's Survival Guide was to always keep an eye on your Goon… _at all times_. The moment you looked away, McKay could guarantee that they would end up doing something incredibly stupid.

John's attention returned to the reflection in the mirror. He looked up at his hair and fiddled with it for a couple of minutes, nodding as he achieved the desired 'just got out of bed' look that he claimed had been eluding him all morning.

Personally, Rodney thought he'd have done a better job if he'd stuck a finger in a live socket. The results would have been the same. Without realising what John was doing, McKay continued to type, oblivious to the up and coming disaster that was about to happen.

Unfortunately, he completely failed to notice that the surface of the 'not-glass' was rippling slightly – and that John had leaned in closer to take a look.

He also missed the fact that his team-mate's reflection seemed to be changing.

"Uh, Rodney…?"

"Busy."

"I really think you should look at this…"

Rodney's head snapped up just in time to see John's fingers brush the suddenly shimmering surface. He jumped to his feet and ran across to his insane and possibly suicidal friend, intent on pulling him away. "No!"

The warning came too late – the mirror hummed with an ear-splittingly shrill tone and a bright flash filled the lab. The resulting shock wave threw them both to the floor.

When their eyes began working again, they were convinced that either they were both hallucinating or they'd finally flipped.

In front of them were another Sheppard and McKay.

_____________________________________________________________________

What's going on? And when's Rodney gonna get whumped?

(Don't ask me. I'm just the writer… ^-^)

Next chapter (and some answers) coming up soon – but only if you're all good.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for all the reviews - you make a girl and her badgers proud! Anyways, in apprecation of the well wishes, I proudly present the boys' twins - I know they're not TOO evil in this chapter, but it'd be no fun otherwise!

**_____________________________________________________________________________**

**Chapter 2: You Look Awfully Familiar…**

"No, no, no," Rodney whimpered, scooting backwards. "Not again!"

"Easy, Answer Man," John hissed, dragging them both to their feet as he turned to the doubles.

'Man, we are talking PERFECT copies here,' he thought, staring dazedly at the new arrivals. Every tiny detail was exact, from…_ Other_… Rodney's crooked grin and the way John's duplicate had the same pointed ears that had made his life a misery since The Lord of the Rings movies had come out.

Although, the pilot decided, _he_ had the better hair. "Uh..."

The John double grinned. "Hi."

"Uh…"

'Smooth, Sheppard, real smooth,' the Colonel's internal McKay crowed, making him grimace. For some reason, his mouth decided to go on strike and he could only gape unceremoniously at their new friends. Luckily, it seemed that McKay was suffering from the same problem.

"Wow, you're a chatty pair, aren't you?" Other-John said with a lazy grin. "What do you think, Rodney?"

McKay's double scowled at him. "I told you not to mess around with it, Sheppard!" he whined, in true Rodney fashion. "Do you have any idea of the damage this could have caused?"

"You worry too much, genius," John's copy replied, waving a hand airily.

"Uh, sorry, but I, uh, that-that is, we, uh," Rodney stammered. Yep, he was definitely having the same problem as John, but at least he'd gotten more than a confused grunt past his throat.

"Sorry!" John's double said, extending a hand. "Introductions. I'm Lt Col John Sheppard and my friend here is Dr Rodney McKay."

"But we figured you kinda knew that already," Rodney number two sighed.

"You're us," McKay squeaked, as his fingers were gripped tightly in the handshake.

Other-Rodney nodded. "Yeah," he said slowly, as if talking to an idiot. "Well, not exactly, but unless you have multiple PhDs, you probably wouldn't understand."

"Well, whaddaya know?" John said, grinning slightly. He placed a hand on Rodney's shoulder to prevent him from lunging at his alternate.

To be honest, Sheppard was feeling more than a bit freaked and almost punch drunk, but he'd finally managed to form a coherent sentence. At least they wouldn't think he was a gormless, brain dead idiot.

"That's just… weird," Rodney muttered. "So you're a scientist then?" he asked, pointing at his copy.

The man nodded. "Head of the Science Department actually! If it weren't for me, the good Colonel here would have been blown up, eaten, mangled, shot, stabbed and so on and so forth a million times by now." He scowled at Other-John. "And despite his worrying love for C4 and an overblown hero complex, I don't want to have to re-train yet another military grunt. It took me long enough with this one."

"This is definitely weird," Sheppard muttered, staring intently at his duplicate. "I'm Lt Col John Sheppard, and this is Dr Rodney McKay."

"Really?" asked Other-Rodney excitedly. "That's incredible!"

"Sheppard, this is amazing! Of all the universes this thing could've hooked up to, it found one where…"

"Geeks," the two Johns muttered fondly. Sheppard nearly dope slapped himself for mentally adding 'jinx!' at the end.

"We're almost identical!" the McKays said at the same time.

As John regarded the two interlopers, he found that he had to agree with them. Other-Rodney was stocky like his McKay, but it was more from muscle than padding. He seemed to have a laid-back, confident air about him, not unlike Rod, that was both relaxing and unnerving in equal measure. Despite that, he could still see the skittishness, as if he was frightened that something horrible was about to jump out and eat them all in seconds. Looking down, he noted that both of them carried thigh holster with a 9mm securely tucked away.

His own duplicate wasn't pudgy, but wasn't as lean or wiry as John was, and there were definite flecks of grey in the dark hair. There was something about the two of them that unnerved him. For a moment, John thought he'd caught a flicker of something in Other-John's eyes, but dismissed it as the remnants of his mild freak out.

The boys stood staring at their doubles for a few moments – their uniforms were slightly different, better fitted, and far more battle scarred… which Sheppard found worrying. Both were sporting all black, with heavy duty combat boots and a black jacket completing the look. 'No blue science shirt?' John wondered to himself.

"I hate to say this, but I'm going to have to take your weapons," he eventually said out loud.

"Why?" asked Other-John, tensing, his hand hovering over the holster.

"Security protocol," Sheppard explained quickly, ignoring the slightly baffled look that his Rodney sent him. It wasn't as if he could tell them that they were a security threat, was it? Besides, if McKay's copy wanted to get into it, John was pretty sure that he'd lose. He looked like he could handle himself and the Air Force man knew from the rare hand-to-hand sessions he'd had with McKay that he could pack a mean right hook when he felt like it. Not that he'd ever let him know.

Plus, there was something about his own double that made John uneasy. "I'm sure you have something similar back… back home," he added, hoping for a truce of sorts.

Other-John narrowed his eyes and for a moment, looked like he was going to decline, but a quick nudge from Other-Rodney and he sighed and relaxed his stance slightly.

"Please, Colonel," Other-Rodney said, "just do what the man wants. I don't think we're in any danger." He handed the gun to Sheppard as if to demonstrate then gave up his data pad. In turn, John passed it to Rodney.

"Since when did you become a military expert, McKay?" Other-John snapped.

"Sheppard, please," Rodney's copy said, his blue eyes almost begging.

"Fine, if it'll stop your whining." He un-holstered the pistol and handed it to John.

"Thanks," Sheppard said, engaging the safety and tucking it into the back of his pants. "It's just temporary." But he could tell that his copy didn't believe that any more than he did.

The doubles looked around the room that the four of them were stood in. "This is unbelievable!" Other-Rodney exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement. "It's an almost perfect copy of MY lab!"

"You're an astrophysicist then?" asked McKay. Glancing over at him, John could see his natural curiosity taking over from the anxiety and all out panic.

Other-Rodney nodded smugly. "The best."

"Smartest man in two galaxies, or so he likes to tell me regularly," Other-John said in a bored voice, although Sheppard noted that the corners of his lips were quirking up slightly.

"That's what _our_ Rodney says," he replied, patting McKay's back.

"I can't help it if it's the truth," McKay muttered petulantly.

"So you realise what this means?" asked Other-Rodney.

McKay nodded. "We'll have to compare findings. I assume you've found a similar device on your side."

"Yes. I theorised that it was similar to a Quantum Mirror, but it only seemed to go one way."

"What about entropic cascade failure?" asked McKay.

"I don't think that'll be a problem…"

"Whoa!" John and his mirror image said, holding up their hands.

"First things first, we all need to get down to the infirmary," John stated, reaching for his ear-piece.

Paling slightly, Other-Rodney moved to McKay's side. "Uh, listen, I know that there's going to be some differences and all, but is… is Carson…"

"McKay!" Other-John barked. "Enough."

"What?" asked McKay, momentarily puzzled.

Sheppard looked between the two new arrivals. There was definitely something going on there, but he was damned if he could put his finger on it. The way McKay's copy seemed to give into Other-John was not only unnerving but just plain wrong.

"Is he still alive here, then?" Rodney number two asked in a low voice. "I mean, he isn't…?"

John turned to study him and saw that the man's eyes were bloodshot and he had a haunted look about him.

In a moment of rarely seen compassion, McKay patted the scientist on his shoulder – and boy, did that look weird. "No, our Carson's fine," he replied.

John could see the man trembling slightly under Rodney's fingertips and wondered what had happened in their universe. He glanced over to his copy, who shared the worried look and moved closer. John heard a voice on the other end of the radio and moved away to discuss the details.

"Colonel, did you hear that?" asked Other-Rodney, looking to his team-mate.

Other-John looked up sharply. For a brief moment, there was an odd look on his face – was it disbelief, unease or relief? – before the professional mask slammed back in place. "Yeah, Rodney, I heard," he said softly.

"Okay, guys, let's go," John said, having completed the conversation over the radio. "I've got Lorne and a couple of the guys on their way."

"Escorts, huh?" asked Other-John, wandering over to him. "Don't trust us yet?"

"Well, I… I mean it's…"

Other-John grinned and patted Sheppard on the back. "'S okay, buddy. I'd do the same. Can't be too careful."

John nodded gratefully, thrown by hearing his usual phrase. "Uh, shall we?" He motioned to the doors and the four of them stepped out.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Hmm... Methinks there's something odd about those two...

Reviews are always appreciated… Benji gets sad if we don't get any feedback and no one wants to see a poor little lizard upset, do they?


	3. Chapter 3

Ha ha! More yummyness! And I've even thrown in a teeny bit of whump to get you all excited.

*grins evilly and plots more mayhem*

___________________________________________________________________________

**Chapter 3: Infirmary Blues**

"I don't bloody believe it!" Carson muttered as John, Rodney and two men who seemed to be exact copies of his friends wandered in with Major Lorne and two other Marines.

"Hi, doc," Sheppard said, giving the Scotsman a cheeky grin and a wave. "We've made some new friends."

_For the love of everything holy…_

"Aye, lad, I can see that." He let out a sigh and herded the quartet towards a row of empty beds – or cots, as most of the expedition had taken to calling them – and motioned for them to sit. "Rodney?" he asked. "What gadget did you mess around with this time?"

Rodney looked hurt at the gentle accusation. "I didn't do anything!" he protested, raising a hand to point at John. "It was his fault!"

"McKay!" John snapped, glowering at the physicist. "It was an accident! Christ!"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Beckett closed his eyes for a moment, wondering what he'd done to warrant having two toddlers as best friends. Perhaps he'd been a mass murderer in another life. "Thank you, Major," he said, turning to Lorne. "I can handle this from here."

"You sure, doc?" Evan asked Carson, looking at John and Rodney's doubles with an uncertain frown.

"Aye, son," the physician replied, patting him on the shoulder. He knew that Lorne felt uneasy about leaving a civilian with two people he'd never met before, but the fact that they had walked in voluntarily eased Beckett's nerves. Besides, he reasoned, he had John there if things became ugly and even Rodney could put up one hell of a fight. "As you were."

"Call me if you need anything," he said. "Sir?"

"Yeah, Lorne, you can go. Thanks." John waved him away.

Beckett stood for a moment and looked at the men in front of him. It was almost as if someone had put up a mirror in the middle of the ward. He couldn't help but notice the way the new arrivals were staring at him – yes he was a doctor, and knew what the signs and symptoms of shock were, but this was different. "Marie?" he called to one of his nurses, "could you come and assist me, love?"

After learning what had happened – and Carson couldn't even begin to describe how barmy it was hearing John and Rodney in stereo – he started the exam. With Marie's assistance, he took a blood sample from all of them and examined his John and Rodney for signs of head trauma from their fall.

John was fine, but Rodney had bumped his over-sized noggin on the corner of the table as he fell and had a mild concussion. After assuring him that he wasn't about to die of a cerebral oedema, blood clot to the brain or anything else, the scientist seemed to be mollified and accepted the Tylenol the Scotsman gave him for the nasty headache he denied having.

Carson knew him far too well, and McKay had yet to learn that the doctor could read him like an open book. Scolding him gently, he moved to the alternate Sheppard and McKay and found that there wasn't a mark on them. Apparently, they'd simply been pulled through the infernal device and had managed to stay on their feet. They were a bit stiff and sore in places, but he put that down to the unnatural forces that had been exerted on them. Sometimes, he marvelled at what the human body could cope with.

The preliminary checks complete, Beckett decided to move them all to the isolation room to be on the safe side – and to avoid drawing in an audience. Once again, the daft sods had touched something they shouldn't have and if he was honest with himself, he was starting to wonder if he should attach kiddie harnesses to the pair of them. When they got together, it was like an open invitation for the horsemen of the Apocalypse to show up. When John and Rodney were in close proximity to an Ancient device, Armageddon was almost inevitable.

They were worse than children.

Rodney's copy had been more than a bit anxious in the ward, and now he was in isolation, Carson could see that he was pretty spooked. He sat at the top of his bed wearing scrubs, hugging his knees nervously.

"Are you okay, lad?" Beckett asked softly. "Are you in any pain?"

Other-Rodney shook his head mutely, still staring at the Scotsman in something akin to disbelief. It was starting to feel more than a bit unnerving.

Other-John scooted across to his team-mate and put an arm around the scientist's shoulders. "It's okay, doc. Rodney doesn't like hospitals much."

"Aye, I'd gathered that," Beckett replied.

"Carson?" Rodney called from behind them. "Can I have a word?"

"I'll be right back. Try and relax, son. I'll not hurt you, I promise." Carson turned to McKay and Sheppard and wandered over to them.

"He… Rodney… said that in their reality, you… well, _their_ Carson Beckett…" Rodney began.

"He's trying to say that your double isn't around any more," John cut in. "At least, they hinted that."

"I see," Carson replied, understanding the other Rodney's reaction. "Thanks, boys." He observed them critically. They didn't seem to be in any distress or pain other than a couple of bruises from their close encounter with the lab floor and Rodney's concussion, and there were no obvious signs of shock, but he knew them far too well.

John Sheppard would happily insist that a life-threatening injury was just a scratch right up to the point where he passed out from the blood loss and Rodney, despite appearances, was just as bad if not worse. He'd moan and whine about something as tiny as a paper cut, but the minute anything was actually wrong, he'd claim he was fine. It was only when he got quiet that Beckett started to worry.

"How are you two feeling?" he asked, looking over the monitors.

"Fine," Sheppard said. "Is this really necessary?"

"Aye, son, it is. Rodney? How's the headache?"

"It's fine, Carson. I'm good."

Both of them gave him an incredulous stare.

"What?" McKay asked.

"That's a first," John said, grinning softly.

"I'm fine, okay?" said McKay hotly.

"Okay, Rodney, take it easy."

The physicist sighed and looked at the floor. "I'm just… I don't know… I think I'm worried about him."

"Who?" Carson asked. "Your double?"

There was a nod and a quiet, "And Sheppard."

"I'm fine, McKay."

"Not you! Other... you!"

Sheppard looked surprised and Beckett couldn't blame him – McKay putting someone else's feelings before his own? Unheard of. Actually, Carson thought, that was unfair to Rodney. He knew damn well that the Canadian did care about people, more than he'd admit, and he could tell McKay was worried.

"You didn't see them in the lab," Rodney continued, unaware of the stares from his friends. "When they found out you were still here, they…" He shook his head, his voice growing uncharacteristically soft. "It must have been bad for them."

John reached out and patted Rodney's shoulder. "Yeah, buddy."

They all looked over to the two new arrivals. Rodney's copy was rocking slightly, still grasping his knees in a death grip while John's double had sideways hug, whispering in his ear to try and calm the man. Carson sighed again and moved back to them.

"I can give him something to help," he said to Other-John. "A mild sedative perhaps? It would help him to relax."

"He'll be fine," Other-John said, reaching up to gently smoothing his companion's hair like an older brother would. "Like I said, he doesn't like hospitals."

"Listen, son, I know you don't want to talk about it and if you really don't want to answer you don't have to…"

"You wanna know what happened to our Beckett?" asked John's duplicate.

Carson nodded. He knew it was morbid and bloody creepy, but he had an almost perverse need to know all the gory details. It was not unlike watching a car crash – he knew he shouldn't be looking but he just couldn't help himself. "Like I said, you don't have to answer if it's too much."

Other-John thought for a moment then looked back at the doctor with a grim sense of determination that wouldn't have been out of place on his Sheppard's face. "There was a siege at the end of our first year on Atlantis," he said in a quiet voice. "One of the Athosians we rescued turned out to be an informant for a couple of hives. They were passing on information for three months before we found out. By the time we did, it was already too late. We were over-run with Wraith. I tried to save him, but…" his voice cracked slightly. "I got to him too late."

"He… they… they fed on him," Other-Rodney finished in a quiet whisper. He looked at his friend. "It wasn't your fault, Colonel."

John's twin just shrugged, obviously unconvinced. "Maybe one day I'll believe that." He looked back at Beckett and smiled. "It's good to see you, Carson."

Carson felt strange. Knowing that there was another Carson Beckett in another dimension was one thing, but finding out that he'd died… That was a whole new ball game. "Okay, lads. Are you sure you both feel alright? No pain anywhere?" He trailed off and gave them a slightly helpless look.

In his defence, it wasn't every day that a person could just step through a mirror into another universe, and he honestly had no idea what kind of trauma that could cause to a human body. He'd read some of Janet Fraser's old reports about the Quantum Mirror, and knew about entropic cascade failure – nasty and painful – but both Rodneys didn't seem overly worried about it.

He spent a couple of moments just staring at them. He knew that they were obviously different people to his friends, but there was something about them he couldn't put his finger on. Their closeness wasn't that dissimilar to that of his Rodney and John, but there was something slightly out of kilter about the way they interacted with each other. It was almost as if they were… lying? Putting on an act?

Carson cursed silently and scolded himself. It was shock, pure and simple, and he was reading far too much into it. "I can give you some muscle relaxants if…"

"No!" Other-John replied sharply, making Beckett jump slightly. His face softened and he looked sheepish. "No, doc, we're fine. It's been a crazy day."

"Well, I can see you've been through a lot," Carson replied, trying to shake off his slightly paranoid feelings. "I want to keep you overnight just to make sure, but as far as the scans and blood work go, you're clean."

"We can do that," Other-John said.

"Will you be alright?" he asked Rodney's copy. Keeping a patient with an obvious phobia of hospitals was never pleasant and he hated doing it, but the last thing he wanted was for some unseen complication or hidden illness to emerge. He couldn't risk an outbreak of something, especially not a trans-universal disease.

Trans-universal? Carson decided that he was spending far too much of his free time with Radek and Rodney. Bloody scientists.

Other-Rodney nodded. "Are the others staying with us?" he asked in a tiny voice, looking over to Sheppard and McKay.

"Those two pig-headed fools, you mean?" Carson asked, his smile mischievous.

Other-Rodney nodded and Beckett couldn't help but find his request odd. Shaking his head, he put it down to a combination of shock and his obvious phobia and let it rest. "Aye, lad, they're both staying." He gave them a no-nonsense stare and tilted his head to one side. "If you need anything just press the call button. And if you change your mind about the sedative, you've only got to ask. I mean it, son. I'll not stand around and watch someone suffering if there's something I can do to help."

The two doppelgangers relaxed visibly and as Carson completed the last of his checks, the four of them settled in for the night.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Uh oh, Carson super Scottish spidey senses are in overdrive! More soon!


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for the reviews! Benji did a little dance of excitement!

Okay, so here's the dark!boys' version of what happened in their reality. Oh, and any dodgy science should be taken with a pinch of salt – I'm a musician, people!

_________________________________________________________________________

**Chapter 4: Timelines**

"I don't believe it."

Elizabeth Weir unknowingly echoed Carson's words as she took in the sight in front of her. She shook her head as she looked at McKay and Sheppard's doubles, trying to suppress the urge to gasp out loud. Having her _own_ versions was bad enough, but now there was double the trouble…

Still, John and Rodney had been adamant that their doppelgangers weren't a threat and the leader of Atlantis believed them. How could she not? They were two of the people that she trusted with her life and if they said it was okay, then she was in agreement.

John was less insistent than Rodney, but as Chief Military Officer, he had to be suspicious – and frankly, the dark haired woman would have been worried if he wasn't. Their doppelgangers didn't seem threatening, though, so she decided to go with the flow for the time being.

"It's complicated, I admit, but I think we've managed to work it out," said McKay, looking to his counterpart, who nodded.

"The research I was doing back in my reality suggested that the mirror was an Ancient device used as an early attempt at Ascension," Other-Rodney explained. "It allowed them to see how differently their lives might have panned out if they had chosen different paths so to speak."

"But why only one dimension?" asked Sheppard. "I mean, why not make it show you twenty or a hundred?"

Rodney held up a finger and grinned smugly. "Because they didn't have enough power."

"What are you saying?" Elizabeth asked, with a gentle frown.

"Basically, the Ancients would have needed a massive power source to create a stable wormhole to more than one dimension," McKay explained. "According to our calculations, in order to access a range of multi-verses, they'd need the equivalent of at least thirty Zed PMs just to power it for five minutes."

"But only having one alternate reality wasn't such a drain on the power," Other-Rodney added. "My version of Radek and I were able to determine that the mirror on our side had an inbuilt power source, one that is capable of establishing a safe link to said alternate reality."

"Does our version have this internal power source?" Weir asked, knowing full well that they were currently running off the Naquadah generators. "And why did it activate?"

"Yes, Elizabeth," Rodney replied patiently. "There's no drain to our power." He looked away, obviously still feeling guilty about draining their ZPM when Rod returned to his own universe. Elizabeth winced at his expression: she hadn't meant for her words to be cutting. "As for the activating…" he sent his John a dirty look.

Both of the Johns looked sheepish. "That might have been our fault," said Sheppard.

"See, in my reality, I'm a natural carrier of the ATA gene," Other-John explained, "and it's the strongest out of anyone else on the base. Rodney told me a hundred times not to touch the damn thing, but I couldn't help it." He smiled.

Elizabeth had to remind herself that it wasn't _her_ John sat directly in front of her chair. He was so different and yet the same that it was just too bizarre. Other-John was as charming as Sheppard and as for Rodney's double… He looked handsome, much like Rod had been. Mentally scolding herself for being so easily distracted from the matter at hand, she hastily cleared her throat and glanced over to Sheppard. "And I suppose that you happened to touch it at the same time?"

Sheppard nodded. "Yeah. Talk about a coincidence!" But his light, joking tone didn't match the flash of suspicion in his eyes.

"What about entropic cascade failure?" she asked. Like John and Carson, Elizabeth had read the old SG-1 reports and knew that this could turn into a potentially fatal situation.

"We don't think it's going to be a problem," said Rodney.

"Because the mirror is of Ancient design, it can only be used by ATA carriers," Other-Rodney clarified. "Even though my gene is artificial, I'm still able to operate the Ancient technology just as well as Colonel Sheppard."

"What does that have to do with anything?" asked Other-John, frowning.

"Well," said McKay, turning to John's alternate self, "basically, it means that you've got a get out of jail free card."

"How so?" asked Sheppard.

"We don't really have all the details yet," said Other-Rodney, looking at Sheppard, "but we think that the ATA gene makes us immune to the effects of entropic cascade failure." He glanced back at McKay when the rest of the group gave them blank looks.

"Think about it. What good would it be to see an alternate version of your life if you could only spend a limited amount of time there? How could you learn from your mistakes or realise that you'd already made them?" asked McKay. "The Ancients built fail safes into virtually everything they created, so it makes sense that the mirror has one too."

"You know, Rodney, it does in a weird kind of way," said Sheppard.

"So what now?" asked his double.

"Well, I don't see why you and Dr McKay shouldn't stay for a while," Elizabeth said, and noticed that the two of them exchanged a guilty look. "After all, we might all learn a few useful things." She turned to Sheppard. "Can you arrange some sleeping quarters for our guests?"

"No problem," John replied, getting to his feet.

"God, what I wouldn't give for a decent sleep," Other-John said. "No offence, but those infirmary beds are like sleeping on concrete. Guess some things are the same no matter what reality you're in."

Sheppard laughed. "I know what you mean."

"Uh, actually, Colonel, would it be alright with you if I had a look at Dr McKay's findings?" asked Other-Rodney. "I'm pretty sure we won't suffer any ill effects, but I'd like to be sure."

Other-John waved his hand. "Sure, McKay, have a blast. Just go easy on the coffee, okay?"

"I'll go see about those quarters," said John, seeing the look on Weir's face. It was obvious that she wanted to find out more about their doppelgangers reality and he knew without asking. John had a knack for that. He smiled and left the conference room.

Rodney and his counterpart were deep in conversation, only to be interrupted by the sound of a throat being cleared. "Rodney," Elizabeth asked, "can you give us a moment?"

The Canadian looked confused for a moment, but then nodded as he realised her intentions. Elizabeth bit back a sigh. The man was still a puzzle. How could someone with the social skills of a five year old pick up on subtle signals? She put it down to his being a genius – and having made a tight circle of friends who could give him lessons.

"I'll be in the lab," he said as he stood up and headed to the door. "When you're done, one of the marines will escort you down."

Once he had gone, Elizabeth looked at the two new comers – and they really were exact replicas. "Carson said you didn't sleep too well last night," she said softly, trying to broach the subject as gently as possible.

Other-Rodney smiled nervously. "I, uh, I don't do so well in hospitals," he admitted. "They… they freak me out."

She returned the smile. "I know what you mean. Look, if there's anything we can do…"

"I'll be fine. I just need to occupy my mind. And a strong cup of coffee or three wouldn't hurt," he added.

She tried hard to ignore just how McKay-esque those comments had sounded.

"I take it this is the part where you ask questions?" asked Other-John, who had slouched down in his chair.

Weir nodded – the way he was sitting was almost the exact same as her John and it took her a moment to remember that the men in front of her were not her colleagues. "I'm afraid so," she replied. "You see, it's not every day that we get to meet alternate versions of ourselves." She gave them a rueful smile, remembering the old version of herself that they'd found in stasis during their first year on Atlantis. "Well, for some of us at least…"

"Dr McKay told us about the bridge experiment and 'Rod'," Rodney's double said. "And we've had some experience ourselves."

"Really?" she asked, wondering why she felt so surprised.

"Really," John's duplicate confirmed. "I used to be based at the SGC. I was with Dr Jackson when he found the Quantum Mirror and met another copy of myself."

"And about seven months ago, we discovered an older version of Lt Ford."

Elizabeth was speechless. The slight differences were just mind-blowing and she found herself curious to know more.

"What do you want to know?" Other-John asked abruptly, pulling her from her thoughts.

"How about you start at the beginning?"

The two men looked at each other and Other-John let out a long sigh. "We're part of an expedition that went to Atlantis two and a half years ago. I'm the Head of the Military and McKay is our Chief Scientist – but I guess you already figured that. When we arrived, we found the city submerged and the last Zed PM was busted."

"Technically, it wasn't 'busted', Sheppard," Other-Rodney cut in. "It was nearing maximum entropy. There's a difference."

"Whatever, McKay," Other-John replied, waving a hand dismissively. "The point was, we were screwed. In desperation, we sent out a small group to try and make contact with the inhabitants of a planet that was in the list of Gate addresses from the database."

"The Athosians?" Elizabeth asked.

Other-John nodded, looking pale. "Yeah. Everything was going fine, and I made friends with an Athosian called Teyla, but something happened and the Wraith showed up. They killed most of my men." His face darkened and he stared into the distance, unseeing. "Fed on them, butchered anyone who was in the way. Myself, Teyla and one of my Lieutenants got out, along with a handful of the Athosians, but my commanding officer, Col Sumner wasn't so lucky."

Weir sat in shocked silence. The events were at the same time similar and different, and it was starting to make her head spin.

She was beginning to regret asking.

"The party returned and the city rose – some kind of failsafe," Other-Rodney continued. "Quite remarkable, really."

"Anyways, we managed to get settled and started trading with some of the contacts Teyla had."

"What about the Wraith?"

"They'd all woken up already. They'd been awake for about a month before we showed up and decided to stay that way once they found out about us." Other-John shifted uncomfortably. "We think that they extracted information about Earth from the soldiers that they fed on."

"Carson said that you mentioned something about the siege?"

Other-Rodney nodded, looking gaunt. "Like the Colonel said last night, we were set up."

"By one of the Athosians."

John's counterpart looked sick. "Teyla," he said quietly. "She had this ability to sense the Wraith. We thought it would be handy, you know? Like an early warning system, but…"

"We didn't know she could communicate with them until it was too late," Rodney's copy finished in a hollow voice.

Elizabeth didn't know what to say. The thought that Teyla could do something like that was hard to swallow and she felt physically ill.

She just hoped that there wouldn't be any feelings of animosity when they met their Teyla.

"That's when we lost Carson," Other-Rodney continued in a quiet, pained voice. "We lost a lot of people. Carson, Peter…" He looked up at the expedition leader, his blue eyes full of regret. "And our Elizabeth."

"But _we_ survived," John's double said, staring intently at his team-mate. "That's what matters."

"Yeah, Sheppard, but we won't for much longer…"

"What do you mean?" Weir asked, frowning.

"Our Zed PM is failing," Other-Rodney replied. "We've been scouting for a new one for months now, but with no luck."

"You won't be able to power the shield?"

They nodded. "Normally, that wouldn't be a problem, but…" Other-Rodney picked distractedly at the sleeve of his jacket. "…Six months ago, we had to submerge the city."

"The Wraith found out we hadn't destroyed the city in the siege and sent a couple of hives to take us out," Other-John continued. "The Prometheus was destroyed in an ambush and all we could do was sink the city."

"The water meant that the intensity of their weapons was diffused somewhat. Unfortunately, it's been eating up power far too quickly."

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said. "But I don't see how we can help."

"You don't have to," said John's double. "We're not here to beg. It was just a fluke."

"We thought that we could use the mirror's power source to top up our Zed PM," his team-mate continued. "But it didn't work."

"And you ended up in our universe," Weir finished, understanding.

The two men looked at each other. "Precisely," Other-Rodney said. He shifted uncomfortably and the guilty look from earlier returned. "But that's only the start of the problem."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Rodney neglected to tell me at the time that the trip was…" Other-John trailed off, looking anxious and Elizabeth immediately felt uneasy.

"One-way," Rodney's copy finished quietly. "Unless we can figure out how to reverse the process, we'll be stuck here."

_________________________________________________________________________

OH NOES! Not good…

Reviews are always appreciated – they distract the badgers, you see.

^-^


	5. Chapter 5

Right, time to see what the rest of Team Shep think...

**______________________________________________________________________**

**Chapter 5: Meeting the Others**

"Sheppard, wait up!" Ronon called as he jogged after the soldier.

John spun around and gave the Satedan one of his grins. "Hey, Chewie, what's up?"

Dex snorted a laugh at the nickname. Ever since Sheppard had introduced him and Teyla to Star Wars, Sheppard had taken to calling the big man that. Ronon wondered if he probably should have been offended at being compared to a hairy Wookie, but it was better than 'Conan'.

Actually, he sort of liked that one too, despite telling McKay he didn't. It was fun trying to keep the little man on his toes.

"I heard about that mirror thing," he offered as they started to stroll down the corridor to the mess – one of the ex-runner's favourite places. The cooks loved him, mainly because he ate anything that was put on his plate and wouldn't complain like McKay.

As they walked, Ronon found himself feeling awkward and useless. Science wasn't his thing, as he was quick to regularly point out. He barely understood McKay when he started to explain something, even if it was in layman's terms. Unless they needed someone dead, or something in pieces, the former Specialist pretty much felt out of his depth.

Still, he reasoned, that was why they had the little man on the team in the first place. He was the brains, Sheppard was the leader, Teyla the negotiator and Ronon was the muscle. Worked for him.

"Yeah," John said, looking sheepish. "Looks like we'll have company for a while."

Dex hadn't met their copies yet, but had heard how eerily alike they were to their counterparts. That he had to see for himself. "So where are they?"

Sheppard bit his lip. "Well, Dr McKay is in the lab with Rodney trying to work out how to fix the problem, and as for my… other half…" He trailed off and shrugged. "I think he was going to get some sleep."

"Sounds like you, Sheppard," Ronon replied with a grin.

John snorted, but his expression turned serious. "Ronon, you should see him," he said. "It's… weird. I mean, okay, there's going to be differences, but… I dunno." He shuddered. "I don't trust them," he continued, lowering his voice. "There's something about them that isn't…" He shook his head. "Forget it. I'm just freaked out a little."

"Getting territorial, huh?" the Satedan suggested, grinning.

"Maybe," he replied.

"Don't worry about it. McKay'll fix it and have them back where they belong in no time."

Sheppard looked surprised at the statement, but Ronon had an unwavering faith in the scientist. McKay was intelligent, but when the ex-runner had first met him, he wasn't sure why he went off-world at all. Scientists were meant to stay in their laboratories, not charge head first into war. Eventually, though, Rodney had shown his courageous streak and it had made Dex look at him differently.

If anyone could solve the problem, McKay could.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." John grinned at his team-mate as he had an idea. "How about we invite Sheppard Mark II to lunch?"

They stopped outside the guest quarters and Sheppard rapped on the door. Ronon tried to keep his face neutral as it opened to reveal the Air Force man's double.

"Hey," Sheppard greeted, smiling – but Ronon could see that it didn't reach his eyes.

"Colonel," the other John replied. "And you must be Ronon," he said, turning to the ex-runner.

"Yeah," Ronon grunted. Dr Weir had briefed them on the new people after she'd heard what had happened, and he knew that in their dimension or whatever, they never found him on the run. But they'd had no need to go to the planet. Their Ford never got infected with the enzyme. Ronon often wondered where he'd be right now if Sheppard and Teyla hadn't found him. Still running, he figured – or dead.

"You hungry?" Sheppard was asking. "We were just heading to the mess. It's mystery meat for lunch."

The other John nodded. "I could go for that," he replied amiably.

He was trying too hard.

Ronon couldn't help but think that. Like John, this Sheppard was laid-back, easy going and friendly, but there was more to it than that, something underneath the surface. It gave Dex the creeps. People who were nice all the time had something to hide in the big man's book. And when this other Sheppard smiled, he saw a glimpse of something dark in his eyes that made his hand stray to his gun.

As they headed for the mess, Ronon's hand never moved an inch.

_____________________________________________________________________

As Teyla entered Rodney's lab, she couldn't help the small gasp that left her lips upon seeing Rodney's other self. Both men wheeled around in surprise, but the Athosian found her voice had left her.

"Teyla?" called Rodney. "You okay? Did you need something?"

She shook her head mutely, still staring at the other Rodney McKay. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her arm and looked away to see Rodney urging her to sit on his lab stool.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked. "You look a bit peaky. You're not sick are you? Should I call Carson? Do you feel faint?"

Teyla blinked and focused on his face, seeing a mixture of concern and puzzlement. "No," she managed, noting the concern underneath the panicky babbling. "I am fine. It was just…"

"Shock," the other Rodney said in a hoarse whisper. "Teyla."

She nodded, knowing the reason for his unease. "You have nothing to fear from me," she replied. "I can assure you."

"What?" he asked. "Oh. _Oh_. No, no, it's fine. We know. I mean, Dr Weir explained it to us. It's fine." He looked away uncomfortably.

The young woman offered him a smile. "Good," she agreed.

"Was there something you needed, Teyla?" asked Rodney, still hovering nervously.

"I simply came to invite you to join me for lunch," she told them. "I believe John, the other Colonel Sheppard and Ronon are already at the mess hall."

Rodney gave his team-mate a beaming smile and she couldn't help but return it. He rarely smiled these days, which was a shame – it suited him to be happy, Teyla decided, made him look younger. "I'm starving," he said enthusiastically. "How about you?" he asked, looking at his double.

The other Rodney nodded eagerly. "Famished."

She stood and held out her arms in invitation. "Shall we?" she asked, indicating the door. She felt their presence behind her and walked out into the corridor.

Teyla heard them talking as they made their way to meet the others, but allowed it to wash over her. She was still shocked to discover that somewhere, in some other reality, she had made a deal with the Wraith – and betrayed those closest to her. She wasn't foolish enough to think it was herself – her copy might have shared her name and looks, but the Athosian knew that it was_ not_ her.

It never would be.

She knew of a few cultures that had made such pacts, trying to cheat death at the hands of the monsters, but the very thought repulsed her. Wraith worshippers were treated like vermin among most of the peoples in the galaxy, and having encountered a few, she understood why. She would rather die than serve the creatures that took her father from her, and would never willingly betray her new family.

Family.

That is how Teyla saw her team, along with Carson, Elizabeth and the others. She knew that her feelings were echoed by them. The fact that we were not related by blood did not make them any less close.

As they drew nearer to the mess, she felt her nerves increase. She wondered how well John's duplicate would react to her presence. The Athosian wasn't afraid, knowing full well that her team-mates would not allow any harm to befall her, but she hoped that the other Sheppard would realise that she was not the same as the one who betrayed him.

The doors to the mess opened and they walked in. Teyla looked around and spotted John and the others sat at one of the balcony tables and waved to him. He looked up with a smile and waved back. Then she saw his double.

The look he gave her was close to hatred for a brief moment before he smiled and nodded. Ronon had seen it too, and narrowed his eyes at the pilot's double before whispering something to John, who nodded slightly. Teyla felt a gentle tug on her arm and noticed that her Rodney was watching her with a curious look.

"Teyla?"

"I am sorry," she said, moving forward in the queue. "I was distracted."

He frowned, and sent a sharp look to the table, but shrugged and resumed his conversation with his other self. Teyla knew that he had seen the exchange and felt reassured as they collected their trays and joined the others.

As the trio took their seats, Rodney moved to place himself in between the Athosian and John's copy – a simple gesture, but it relieved her nerves. She smiled her thanks and he raised an eyebrow before turning to John and Ronon.

"Gang's all here," John said, grinning as he took a bite out of his apple. "Sorry we started without you, but Ronon was hungry."

"He's always hungry, Sheppard," Rodney replied before switching his gaze to the Satedan. "Where the hell do you put it all?"

"It's called exercise, little man," Ronon replied. "You might want to try it sometime."

"Funny," Rodney said, tucking into his lunch vigorously. "I'll have you know I _do_ exercise," he growled around a mouthful of pasta.

"I do not believe that running for the Gate in blind panic can be counted," Teyla teased, the easy banter calming her further.

"Teyla's right," John said, his eyes gleaming.

"Thank you for your expert opinion, Colonel."

"Hey, I'm sorry," John said, looking to his other self. "My manners are dreadful. Teyla, this is Colonel Sheppard. Colonel Sheppard, this is Teyla." He gave a small headshake, feeling weird at having to essentially introduce himself.

"Pleased to meet you," the other John said in a pleasant tone of voice.

"As it is for me," Teyla replied, dipping her head in a greeting.

Through the rest of their lunch, she ate silently, listening to the various conversations. Rodney and his counterpart were talking about a test for the device, while Ronon, John and the other Sheppard were discussing training and other military things.

"Hey."

Teyla looked up from her cup of tea to see John staring at her.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You're pretty quiet."

"I am fine," she replied. "I was thinking."

Next to her, Rodney stiffened slightly at the dubious look from John's double.

"Okay," John replied. "Listen, we were going to spar. Wanna join us?"

She nodded. "Very well," she said, trying to cover her unease.

"Cool. We'll meet you in the gym in an hour?"

"I will be there." She stood up and picked up her tray. "If you will excuse me, I have to attend a meeting with Elizabeth. I will see you later." It was all she could do not to run from the table.

As she left them, Teyla heard John asking for a progress report on the device – it seemed he was as uneasy as she was about the others.

_____________________________________________________________________

Hmmm… That can't be good, but let's face it – anything else and you'd be bored!

Rodney whump up next!


	6. Chapter 6

RODNEY WHUMP!!! :)

(Thought you'd be pleased.)

_____________________________________________________________________

**Chapter 6: We Have a Problem**

From the moment that his other self saw Teyla, John knew that things weren't going to go down as well as he'd hoped. Fortunately, everyone else had seen the way he'd looked at her – it was John's usual 'I'm gonna start cracking heads' glare, but about ten times as murderous.

'Anyone would think that the guy had seen a Wraith,' the pilot thought as he pulled and picked at his sandwich. He had an hour before he was meant to meet up to spar, and Ronon had offered to take Other-John to the gym to show him around. Sheppard watched as they left, and felt troubled.

"Sheppard?"

The Colonel looked over to Rodney and saw him and his double staring at him. "Sorry, Rodney, zoned out for a minute."

McKay snorted a laugh and shook his head. "How the hell did you ever pass the MENSA test?"

"That's for me to know and you to never find out," John shot back. Other-Rodney looked down at his tray, obviously uncomfortable. The pilot really wanted to talk to his Rodney alone for a few minutes, and was wondering how to go about it when he spotted Radek out of the corner of his eye. "Hey, Dr Z!" he called, waving his arm in a 'come hither' kind of way.

Zelenka walked over, smiling. "Colonel, Rodney," he greeted. "And you must be Dr McKay."

"Rodney," the other McKay said, extending a hand.

"A pleasure," Radek replied, shaking the offered appendage. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, Z, the thing is, I was wondering if you could keep Dr McKay company for a while," John said, still feeling weird. "I need to go over a mission report with Rodney."

"What?" McKay piped up, blatantly clueless as usual. Sometimes, John really wondered how he hadn't managed to get himself killed off-world yet.

"You know, Rodney," Sheppard said, staring at him meaningfully, "the report on M4G-002. The one that Elizabeth wanted us to review for the next meeting."

"Oh," he said, then, "_Oh_," as he finally caught the coded designation.

'Thank God,' thought John.

The boys had set up that particular system a couple of years ago, so that they could indicate when they needed to talk about important things without an audience. Like, for instance, their next prank on Kavanaugh, surprise parties for people's birthdays and occasionally more personal stuff. They also had a private radio channel for the same reason thanks to Rodney's inventiveness.

"Yes, of course. Radek, could you…?" He waved his hands around aimlessly. Sometimes John wondered what would happen if Rodney's hands stopped their aerial acrobatics.

"Certainly," the engineer replied. "How long will you be?"

"Uh, hard to say, doc," Sheppard said. "Depends on how many typos there are."

"Then we shall meet you in the lab," he said smoothly. The man was a master at hidden meanings.

'Maybe I should get him to give Rodney a couple of lessons,' John thought with a smirk.

"Is that okay with you, Rodney?" Zelenka asked.

"What? Oh, yes, fine. Just don't mess with my laptop. I've got three simulations running on it."

"I would never touch laptop," Radek assured him. "I have no love of death by enraged Chief Scientist."

They all laughed, but John gave an involuntary shudder at how cold Rodney's copy sounded. It was starting to get seriously creepy. "Great. Thanks, Z, you're a legend." He got up and nodded at Other-McKay, then practically dragged Rodney from the table, ignoring the complaints. As they passed the counter to dump their trays, John snagged a chocolate muffin and presented it to his friend as a peace offering for cutting his lunch short.

The boys walked in silence until they reached the east balcony, and once outside, John took out his earpiece, motioning for Rodney to do the same. He gave the Colonel a baffled look but copied him.

"So what's with the James Bond routine then?" he asked. "Or are you trying to give the rumour mill a stroke?"

John sighed and ran a hand through his unruly hair. "Look, Rodney, I…" How the hell was he going to put this?

"Anything that has you speechless has me intrigued," the Canadian said, grinning slightly.

"I don't trust them," Sheppard blurted.

There. That wasn't so hard, was it? John stood and waited for the inevitable explosion and rant about how he was being paranoid. Rodney's reply, however, shocked him.

"Neither do I."

The pilot had to admit that he hadn't seen that one coming, and he suspected that the expression on his face showed it. "What?"

"There's something hinky going on," McKay continued. "For a start, there isn't a chance in hell that the mirror would be one way. The Ancients wouldn't build something like that without having some kind of get out option. They may not have been completely infallible, but they weren't idiots."

"Makes sense," John replied. "Did you see the way my copy looked at Teyla?"

Rodney nodded, a look of disgust settling on his face. "Yeah. I'm sorry, I know that they had a bad experience with their version, but that doesn't excuse them from acting like she's a serial killer!"

"How did the other you take it?"

Rodney chewed his lip – and John knew from experience that it was a sure sign that he was nervous. "He was polite, but there was something about his reaction that I didn't like," his friend stated after a while. "I'm not exactly the best at reading people, but there was a definite weird vibe going on."

"Weird vibe? Since when did we travel back to the Seventies?" John knew that they were having an important discussion, but he couldn't help the jibe.

"Oh, knock it off," Rodney snapped. "I'm serious."

"Sorry."

The scientist stretched his arms over his head, wincing as his shoulders cracked. The man needed to spend less time hunched over a computer, Sheppard decided. "What do we do?"

"Send them back as soon as possible," John answered, his words coming out at a speed that would rival his Canadian colleague's.

John _really _wanted them gone, with every last atom of his being. It was more than just unease or paranoia now. Normally, he wasn't one for bad feelings or 'vibes' as Rodney insisted on calling it, but the American was getting the distinct impression that the longer they stayed, the worse things would get. It was like a cold, churning feeling in the base of his gut – and he'd learnt to listen to that over the years.

"Leave it to me, Sheppard," McKay assured his team-mate. "I'll have them back where they belong in no time." He pulled the now considerably squashed muffin out of his pocket and broke it in half, presenting the slightly larger piece to John. He devoured his own in a couple of bites and the pilot shook his head.

"So," Sheppard said through a mouth full of chocolate flavoured gooiness, "wanna watch Indiana Jones with us later?" He deliberately changed the subject, mostly to try and shake the lingering apprehension and maintain his cool, calm exterior.

"Which one?"

"Temple of Doom."

"Sure."

He finished the muffin and chased it down with a swig of water from his bottle. "Rodney," he started.

"Yes, that's still my name."

"Just… just be careful, okay?" Alright, maybe he hadn't quite gotten rid of the nervousness.

Rodney looked at John like the man had grown an extra head – which usually meant John had done or said something that he thought was ridiculously stupid. "Oh come on! You don't think they'd try something in broad daylight with witnesses, do you?"

"I don't know," John replied honestly, although he wouldn't bet any money on his team-mate's assumption. "I'm gonna post a couple of Marines outside your lab, alright? Just to be on the safe side."

"I don't need…"

"No, Rodney," John said, holding up a hand to prevent the forthcoming diatribe. "I'm serious. Please."

He scowled at the Colonel, but nodded. "Fine. But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Never said you did, buddy."

_____________________________________________________________________

With Sheppard's portents of doom ringing in his ears, Rodney made his way back to the lab, intending to get the translations finished. That way, he could find out how to switch the damn thing into reverse and get shot of their houseguests.

He was the first person to admit that when it came to social skills, he could be a bit… naïve. After all, he was not a people person. It was one of the reasons he chose science as a career: that and coming from a dysfunctional family. But even he knew that their doubles weren't being entirely truthful. Something was nagging away at the back of his mind, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

It was like not being able to find the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle.

Sighing, he turned the corner…

…and was thrown into the wall as an explosion ripped through the corridor. He let out an agonized scream as he felt something snap in his left arm, but his adrenaline rocketed, helping him to ignore the pain. Dragging himself upright, he staggered over to the door of the lab, trying to ignore the pounding in his head and the blurred vision. All he could think of was that Radek had been in there.

As he reached out, strong arms clamped around his chest and tugged him back forcefully. Rodney yelled wordlessly, struggling to free himself, not hearing the stream of words from the owner of the arms. He raised his head, intending to argue and fight his way in when he saw that his rescuer was none other than his second in command. "Radek!"

"Rodney," he replied, dragging McKay away from the fire and smoke.

"I thought… I thought you were… The lab, in the lab…" Rodney's words came out as jumbled as he was feeling.

"No," the Czech confirmed. "Is not your lab, Rodney. Wrong corridor."

McKay looked about and realised that he was right. He'd been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he must have selected the wrong level on the transporter display – they were two floors below, in the engineering department. "Guess so," he mumbled, wincing as the pain behind his eyes started to resonate with the warning klaxons. "What the hell happened? And… where did you come from?"

Radek pointed upwards. "Your lab, priteli. We heard explosion, you see," he added, obviously seeing the confusion on his friend's face. "I came down to investigate, call in help and find you about to run into fire like man possessed."

Rodney blinked furiously as his vision started to grey out. That was all he needed – another concussion to add to the one he'd received the day before, and a broken arm to top it all off. Carson was going to kill him.

"He will not. Yell, maybe, but never resort to physical harm," Zelenka said with a wry grin. Rodney realised that he must have said that last bit out loud.

"Hope you're right," he replied before the blackness crept up and sucker-punched him.

_____________________________________________________________________

When he woke up, Rodney found himself in the infirmary looking up at a very concerned and very angry John Sheppard. Luckily it was his version of the man or he might have wigged out. "Hey," he managed to croak, his throat feeling like sandpaper. Glancing down, he noticed the cast on his left arm and grimaced.

"Hey," John replied, the anger fading slightly. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I was almost blown up," Rodney told him with an eye roll. He regretted that instantly as the throbbing in his head upped the ante. Sheppard must have seen it because the next thing he knew, Carson had appeared and was injecting his IV line. After a couple of minutes, the pain was replaced by the comforting and familiar feeling of the Scot's good drugs – the 'makes you slightly loopy' kind.

"Don't ever do that again," Beckett admonished, looking years older. "You half scared us all to death!"

"Sorry," Rodney managed. "In my defence, I didn't do anything. It was just an accident. I pushed the wrong button in the transporter."

"More like right place, right time," John growled.

McKay swallowed. "You think this was deliberate?"

He shrugged. "I don't know yet, but I sure as hell intend to find out."

Before he could ask Sheppard what he meant, Radek came running into the infirmary at full pelt. Rodney was amazed – the guy might have been small, but he could really run when the occasion called for it. "We have… Oh, Rodney, hello, feeling better yes? Good. We have a problem."

"What?" McKay demanded, trying to fight through his drug induced haze. "What do you mean, 'problem'?"

The engineer looked down at the floor, seeming to want to shrink away. "Is mirror," he replied quietly. "The internal power source is broken."

"Meaning what?" asked Sheppard.

"Meaning that it won't work," Rodney answered, a chill creeping though him. "Without the power supply, it won't activate. Meaning…"

"That our new friends can't go home," John finished.

"Could you not just hook it up to a couple of Naquadah generators?" asked Carson.

Rodney sighed. Beckett was the king of all things voodoo, but when it came to real science, he was completely clueless. "No," he replied, trying not to snarl. "For several reasons actually…" He let out a small groan and sank back down against the pillows, motioning for Radek to explain.

"They are not compatible," he said simply. "Will not work. They do not create enough power."

"So, bottom line?" asked John.

"Bottom line, Sheppard," Rodney said quietly, "is that unless we can either fix the power unit somehow or find a suitable replacement, our twins are going nowhere."

_____________________________________________________________________

Uh oh! Can they fix it? And why did that lab blow up? Much evil-doing is afoot!


	7. Chapter 7

First of all, many apologies for the long wait – RL is being particularly difficult at the moment. Thank you for all the reviews – Benji and the badgers are very happy! Oh, and to everyone who's put this on story alert… Bear with me and I promise I'll make it worth your while. I may even throw in some more Rodney whump…

Onwards!

______________________________________________________________________________

**Chapter 7: How to Catch a Rat**

"Carson!"

Rodney was not at all happy.

He'd been poked, prodded, blinded by a damn penlight and woken up every hour without fail to answer inane questions that even Teyla would've gotten pissy with, but he was finally being released from Beckett's overprotective clutches. At first, he'd been overjoyed at his sudden freedom – until the Scotsman had dropped his (not entirely shocking) bombshell.

"No, Rodney, I mean it. You are not to go anywhere near your lab or that mirror for at least forty eight hours."

"Oh, come on!"

"Rodney McKay, you listen up. You've had _two _concussions in the space of two days, not to mention pins in your arm! You need to rest and you'll not be able to do that if you're staring at a bloody laptop."

The Canadian growled in frustration. The more time he spent away from the mirror, the longer it would take to send the alternate Sheppard and McKay back to where they belonged. "Please, Carson," he asked quietly, his blue eyes pleading, "I promise not to overdo it. I'll even get Radek to help."

It was hard saying no to his friend, but Beckett stood his ground. "My decision is final," he stated, placing his hands on his hips as he squared off against McKay. When he saw the flicker of hurt in the Canadian's eyes, his expression softened. "I'm sorry, mo chara, but it would be irresponsible of me as a doctor to let you go back to work so soon."

"I'm not going to persuade you, am I?" Rodney asked sadly.

Carson shook his head. "Sorry."

"Uh, I could carry on if you'd like."

Both men turned at the sound of the third voice to find McKay's double standing in the doorway.

"Excuse me?" Rodney demanded.

"I… I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," the other McKay said, wringing his hands nervously. Seeing the unhappy look on his counterpart's face, he continued quickly, "Look, me and Sheppard just want to go home, so why not let me help? I'm you, after all, aren't I? We seem to share the same thought processes, so what harm could it do?"

"Well, for a start…"

"I think that's a grand idea, lad," Carson said, talking over his McKay before the ranting began. "What do you say, Rodney?"

"You'll have to square it with Elizabeth," the scientist eventually conceded sulkily.

"Already did," his double replied with a smug smile.

"Guess it's settled then," Rodney grumbled as they watched the man walk away. "And don't even think about saying it," he growled at Beckett.

"As if I would," the Scotsman replied innocently, knowing full well that was exactly what the Canadian would have done if their roles had been reversed. "Now go on with you and hop it, son. And remember, I'll know if you've been in the lab," he called to his friend's retreating back.

"This won't end well," Rodney muttered darkly. "You'll see."

_________________________________________________

"Hey."

John's head jerked up at the soft greeting and he smiled at the owner of the voice. "Hey yourself, buddy," he replied. "Did the doc cut you loose or did Z spring you?"

"Last time I checked, hospital escapes were _your_ field of expertise, Colonel," Rodney answered coolly, though his eyes glinted with mischief.

"You have a point," Sheppard agreed amiably, but his boyish features hardened as he took in his team-mate's battered appearance. Rodney was still far too pale for his liking, with dark smudges under his eyes and the uncomfortable looking cast on his arm. "Did you need me?"

McKay shifted guiltily. "I, uh, wondered if maybe… you wanted a hand?"

"You've only got one spare," John retorted with a grin.

"Well, yes, but… you see, the thing is…"

The Air Force man raised an eyebrow as understanding dawned. "You were banned from the lab, weren't you?"

"Maybe."

John shook his head in disbelief. "Are you _trying _to get yourself killed?" he asked, knowing from experience what it felt like to be on the receiving end of Beckett's wrath.

He still had the scars to prove it.

"Hey, Carson said not to go into _my _lab," Rodney replied innocently. "He never said anything about engineering."

The Colonel bit back an amused laugh. As much as he wanted his friend to actually follow Beckett's orders, having the man with him was probably much safer. "Okay, Rodney," he said with an affectionate grin. "On one condition."

McKay's eyes lit up excitedly. "Name it."

John motioned to the stool next to him. "Sit down before I have to pick your ass up off the floor." He nodded happily to himself as the Canadian did as he was told.

"What have you found?" Rodney asked, eager to get to the bottom of the mystery of the exploding lab.

Sheppard's face darkened as he picked up a small object from the workbench in front of him. "Take a look."

The Canadian frowned as he peered at the item in his friend's hand, but it soon turned to a look of horror. "Oh my God," he breathed. "Is that...?"

"C4," John confirmed. "The explosion wasn't an accident." He took a breath before continuing, "I think someone planted a small charge and rigged it for remote detonation."

"And all they'd need to do would be to hack into the security cameras and wait," Rodney finished, feeling a chill creep up his spine. "Can I use your laptop?" he asked, pointing at the computer.

"Be my guest," John replied, moving it across the table. "What are you doing?"

"Just give me a minute," the scientist muttered, typing furiously with his good hand. While he worked, the pilot marvelled at how quickly his team-mate was working even with his obvious handicap.

"Ha!" Rodney crowed after a couple of minutes.

"What?"

"I just retrieved the surveillance footage from yesterday," McKay replied, looking smug. He typed in a command and the boys began to watch the playback.

For several minutes, nothing happened. Seeing John growing impatient, Rodney hit the fast forward key, only stopping when a lone figure wearing all-black and a cap appeared on screen. From the person's height and build, the boys knew it was a man and they watched as he entered the lab. Rodney typed on the keyboard again and the picture changed to the footage from the camera inside the lab. The mystery man pulled a small bundle from his pocket, attaching it to the underside of one of the workbenches before stepping back out into the corridor. Another flurry of typing and the video moved back outside again.

The whole thing had taken less than three minutes.

"Son of a bitch," John breathed.

Rodney nodded mutely, allowing the recording to play on. When it came to the actual explosion, he shut his eyes and looked away, not wanting to see how close he had come to ending up as a smear on the wall.

John's jaw clenched tightly when he witnessed the damage inflicted on his geek. He was glad that Rodney had kept the sound turned off, but when he saw the scientist screaming silently, it seemed even worse somehow. He'd been in the gym with the others when the announcement had come over the radio and for one horrible moment, John had feared the worst.

He glanced over to Rodney, noticing how the man had paled even further, and reached out to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. The small tremors he felt under his fingertips made his anger grow so he quickly reached over and stopped the recording.

"I'm gonna nail them to the fucking door," the pilot hissed.

"Who?" asked Rodney, confused. They hadn't seen the man's face thanks to the way the cap had been pulled down low.

Sheppard gave him an arch look. "Who d'you think, Answer Man?"

"The other us? Come on, Sheppard, you can't be serious."

"Trust me, Rodney, I know the way I move when I don't want to be seen," John insisted. "And seeing as how I was out on the balcony with you at the time, that only leaves one explanation."

"Your evil twin," Rodney finished. "So, what? He planted the C4 while other me messed with the transporter?"

John nodded. "Had to have been." He narrowed his eyes as a thought struck him. "Don't your team have a… a what do you call it?" He snapped his fingers as he struggled to find the right word. "…A command input list or something?"

McKay thought for a moment before nodding. "Or something," he agreed, once again typing on the keyboard. "There you go," he said when the computer beeped happily at him. "The command code log," he explained with rarely seen patience as Sheppard stared uncomprehendingly at the stream of numbers filling the screen. "If you give me a minute, I can find out who did the dirty on the transporter controls."

Two minutes later, they had their answer. "You're slipping, buddy," John quipped, "but seeing as how you're banged up and all, I'll let it slide this time."

"Oh, thank you very much!"

"Take it as a compliment."

"Rat bastard."

"Hey, I was only kidding!"

"Not you, dumbass." He pointed at the screen, motioning to the code that had given them their suspect – _his_ code…

"Oh."

Rodney sighed. "Yeah… Oh fuck!"

"What?" asked John, alarmed by his friend's sudden outburst.

"I let him help Radek!"

Before either of them could say anything else, the overhead tannoy exploded into life.

"_Code Green! I repeat, Code Green! Security to Dr McKay's lab!"_

The boys were out of the door and halfway down the corridor before the announcement had finished. The proverbial shit had hit the metaphysical fan – Code Green was a hostage situation.

McKay's double had Radek.

_________________________________________________________________

EEK!!! Cliffy alert! Can the boys save our favourite Czech? Review if you want to find out!


	8. Chapter 8

Attention, kids:

**WHUMPAGE ALERT!!!**

I had a feeling that might get your interest. ;D

PS – in case you were wondering, 'mo chara' means 'my friend' or something similar in Gaelic… I think. (Well, it does now! :P)

__________________________________________________________

**Chapter 8: The Art of Negotiation**

The boys skidded to a halt outside McKay's lab. The marine guard that John had posted was nowhere to be seen and the pilot felt his stomach sink. Beside him, Rodney looked ready to kill – nobody messed with his science teams and lived to talk about it. Silently counting down from three, John swiped a hand over the door control and they entered the lab cautiously, not knowing what they might find.

"I wondered when you'd get here."

McKay's double was holding a limp looking Radek in a choke hold, a knife pressed against the engineer's side.

"Let him go," Rodney demanded.

"Why would I want to do that?" asked his counterpart, genuinely confused.

"Let's just calm down and talk about this," John said, slowly inching forward. He held his hands out in front of him, in what he hoped was a non-threatening gesture.

Unfortunately, the alternate McKay didn't see it that way. "Stay where you are!"

The Colonel froze on the spot, not liking the manic edge to Other-Rodney's voice.

"Why are you doing this?" Rodney asked softly. "I thought you wanted to go home?"

"Christ, I can't believe how naïve you are," his double snarled. "This is almost too easy."

"What are you talking about?" John challenged.

The alternate McKay simply tilted his head to the side and smiled, sending shudders down the boys' backs. It was clear that the man in front of them was unbalanced and the last thing either of them wanted to do was tip him over the edge. After all, there was no telling what he might do to Zelenka.

It was only then that John saw his marines.

The men were slumped on the floor, seemingly unconscious. Sheppard looked over at McKay's twin with a murderous glare. "What've you done to my men?"

Rodney two smiled serenely. "Oh, don't worry about them, Colonel. They're just asleep." As he spoke, he switched the knife to the hand wrapped around Zelenka's throat and pulled out a small device from his pocket: it was a tiny cube, about the size of a nickel. "Cute, isn't it?" he asked, sounding like Rodney did whenever he found a cool new device to play with. "It's kind of like an Ancient version of a flash-bang. Unfortunately, it only seems to work on non ATA carriers, but it looks like I got lucky in that regard."

"If you've hurt them…"

"Please, Colonel, what do you take me for? A psychopath?" Other-Rodney asked, sounding upset at the implication. "They'll be fine." He frowned for a moment before adding, "Well, they'll have a bitch of a headache when they wake up, but other than that there's no lasting damage." An evil grin appeared as he added, "Although I've never tested it on live subjects before."

"Look, just let Radek go," Rodney pleaded, not liking the way the Czech was listing to the side.

"Can't do that, Roddy," the other McKay sing-songed. "But I'll tell you what. How about you call off the reinforcements? Do that for me and I won't kill your friend."

"You even scratch him and I'll make you wish you were never born!"

"Ah, ah, ah! Bad Rodney." The man's eyes flashed with anger and the knife was brought back into view. "Call them off or I'll kill him."

John and Rodney didn't doubt that for a second.

Nodding to his team-mate, John quickly reached up to his headset and barked out the order along with a hasty explanation about it being a false alarm. Once he received a confirmation, he looked back to McKay number two. "Done," he said. "Now how about you let the doc go?"

"I don't think so, John," Other-Rodney replied.

Before he could answer, something hard connected with the back of his skull, knocking him out cold.

"Sheppard!" Rodney cried out as he saw the Air Force man collapse in a boneless heap. _This can't be happening…_

Sheppard's double stepped forward from the shadows, throwing a length of blood stained metal piping to the floor. "Hi, kids," he greeted cheerfully as he manoeuvred his way around John's prostrate body. "Did ya miss me?"

McKay tried hard to push away the surge of panic gripping his gut. He went to move over to his unconscious team-mate, but the other John stepped in front of him.

"Now, now, Dr McKay, be sensible," Sheppard's copy scolded with a dark smile. "I hit him pretty hard once and you wouldn't want me to cause any more damage, would you?"

Rodney wanted to scream but nothing got past his impossibly tight throat. Instead, he shook his head and backed off slightly. It was at that moment that he realised John's double wasn't wearing his original uniform but one of Sheppard's.

The confusion must have shown on his face because the alternate John laughed. "You're coming on a little field trip, doc," he said.

"Where?" Rodney managed to croak.

"Now that would be telling, buddy."

"Alright, why then?"

"Because I said so."

_Fuck…_

"What if I don't want to?" the Canadian challenged.

"Then it's simple," Sheppard's twin replied with a savage laugh. "I'll kill both of them."

Seeing the murderous gleam in the man's eyes, Rodney didn't need to be told twice. "But won't everyone get suspicious if both of us gate off-world?" he asked desperately, looking to his double.

_Come on, genius, think!_ Rodney could hear John's voice in his head, baiting him, and he found himself calming. _Keep 'em talking… _He glanced over to the Colonel's worryingly still body, feeling the band of panic in his chest easing as he saw John's upper body rising and falling in a smooth, steady rhythm.

There was a dull thunk as the alternate McKay dropped Radek to the floor. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about that," he said. "No one's going to see me." He pushed up his jacket sleeve to reveal a Sodan cloaking device attached to his arm.

He was so screwed.

"So here's how it's gonna go down," the alternate John stated, wrapping an arm around Rodney's shoulders in a twisted parody of his Sheppard's friendly mannerism. "Me and you are gonna walk out of here, calm as you like, and you're going to act like nothing's wrong. McKay'll follow us. We're going to go to the control room then gate off-world." He leant in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And if you try to run or raise the alarm…" he trailed off, glancing pointedly at John and Radek.

The subtle threat wasn't lost on Rodney. Co-operate or else. He nodded, trembling under the other Sheppard's arm.

"Good boy!" Other-John declared. "Now then, buddy, what say we go on that trip?"

As he was ushered from the lab, he saw his counterpart activate the wrist band and shift out of phase. The alternate John led him towards the control room, greeting the various personnel they passed on the way – the act put on by the man made Rodney feel sick to his stomach. Why couldn't anyone see that it wasn't their John? Despite wanting nothing more than to scream for help, the physicist kept his mouth shut. The last thing he wanted was to be responsible for something happening to Sheppard and Zelenka.

After what felt like hours, they finally arrived at the Gate room.

"John, Rodney?" Elizabeth called. "What happened in the lab?"

"False alarm," John's copy answered smoothly. "One of the marines I posted had a bet on who'd arrive first in an emergency."

Rodney saw her lips purse, and for a split second, he wondered if she'd rumbled them.

_Come on, Elizabeth,_ he pleaded silently. _Come __**on**__…_

"I see," she replied. "I hope you dealt with the individual concerned?"

_Oh hell, woman! Get with the programme! This isn't __**our**__ John Sheppard!_

The alternate Sheppard smiled. "He's learnt his lesson, right, Rodney?"

"Y-yes."

"Rodney? Are you okay?" Weir asked, frowning.

The Canadian felt a not so gentle nudge in his ribs, a less than subtle reminder to keep up his end of the deal. "I'm fine," he said, trying hard to sound convincing. "Just… just a little tired."

"We were thinking about heading to P3X-433 for a couple of hours," John's double added. "Rodney could use some R and R."

"That sounds like a great idea," the dark haired woman replied. "But what about our new friends?"

"They're holed up in the lab," Rodney said quickly. Judging from the look he got from his captor, he was going to pay for that.

"Z wanted them for some test or other," Other-John stated smoothly. "So we figured we'd give the guy some space."

Elizabeth nodded. "Alright, boys, you can go."

_No!_ thought Rodney desperately as Chuck began to dial the Gate. He tried to tug his arm free of the alternate Sheppard's grip, but the man's hand tightened painfully.

"We had an agreement, Rodney," he hissed, "and I'm not the sort of man who doesn't make good on his threats."

Realising that he wasn't going to get out of this one, Rodney stilled as the Gate activated.

"Come on, buddy," Other-John said cheerfully. As they approached the event horizon, a startled shout came from one of the technicians. Before he could cry out, Rodney was dragged into the wormhole.

___________________________________________________________________________

John's head was pounding unmercifully as he ran down the corridor.

He could feel the blood trickling down his neck, but he ignored it along with the confused looks he was getting from passers-by. He had started to come round just in time to hear what his twin's plan was, but had played possum for fear of endangering Rodney or anyone else. Waiting in the lab was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do, so once he figured the coast was clear, he'd radioed for a med team and run.

He flew up the stairs leading to the Gate room to see Rodney being shoved through the event horizon.

Pushing past a technician, he launched himself at the wormhole… and landed with a painful thump on the floor as it shut down. Groaning, he dragged himself upright, swaying on the spot as the room span.

"Colonel Sheppard?"

He turned quickly, grateful that he was close to the Gate. Latching onto it, he focused his fuzzy vision and saw Elizabeth approaching him.

"No," he said. "I mean, yes, but it's me. John. The man with Rodney was _him_. You know, the other one." He wondered if his slurred words were making any sense.

"What?" Weir asked.

John decided to try a different tactic. "Where'd they go?"

"John? But I don't understand! You were just here…"

"_Where did they go, Elizabeth?"_

A look of horror passed across the expedition leader's face as everything slotted into place. "P3X-433," she replied quietly.

"Get Lorne and a jumper out there," John demanded, sinking to his knees as his head injury caught up with him. He felt hands latch onto him as the ground rushed up to meet him and heard a panicked shout for medical assistance.

Then the world went blissfully dark.

__________________________________________________________

Argh! Get up and save Rodney!

Hmm, another evil ending, but be honest – you love it really. Next chapter up soon, but only if you appease the badgers and review. :)


	9. Chapter 9

Because you've all been so wonderful and left lovely words of encouragement, I shall reward you with the next instalment.

But be warned – this is NOT going to be pleasant. So if torture (actual or implied) makes you feel icky, look away now…

___________________________________________________________________________

**Chapter 9: The Scientist and the Psychopath**

_Ow…_

Rodney's eyes fluttered open and he let out a low moan as the pain flooded his body. Deciding to focus on his situation rather than the few parts of him that _didn't _hurt, he let his vision adjust. He was in a cave, strung up like a slab of meat, but thankfully alone.

_Oh, that's a really bad analogy, McKay,_ he thought to himself, trying to banish images from the horror movies he'd seen on team-nights.

He tried to think back to what had happened. As soon as they'd arrived on P3X-433, his other self had shifted back into phase and dialled out to another location. And then they went to a whole host of others before they'd finally ended up here.

Wherever the hell 'here' was.

The Canadian wasn't an idiot. He knew that their doubles had made it virtually impossible for John and the others to track them. Even if they managed to somehow narrow down the hundreds of possible locations, it would take months if not years for them to find him. And something told the physicist that he wasn't going to be around for that long…

He felt a jolt of worry at the thought of the wild haired pilot – the other Sheppard had hit him hard, but Rodney was convinced that he'd seen the soldier run into the Gate room just before the monster wearing his friend's face had pulled him into the rippling blue puddle.

His shoulders were burning from the unnatural position they'd been forced into and Rodney was certain that they were on the verge of popping from their sockets. He tried to balance himself better, almost screaming at the jolt of pain that burnt its way through his left arm. Sheppard's double had smashed the cast that had been protecting his shattered bones, claiming that Rodney could slip out of his bindings. That had hurt more than he thought possible but he'd grit his teeth, determined not to cry out. Unfortunately, his stoic attitude had simply egged the other John on, leading to a beating.

Now, though, the appendage was beginning to go numb, and Rodney was worried. _That can't be good. _If only he could stand more upright…

Before he could dwell on how screwed he really was, his captors came back. He noted the camera and laptop tucked under his alternate self's arm and fought down the panic.

"Oh look," the other John drawled, "he's awake again."

"Sheppard, enough," McKay's twin snapped. "You know damn well he's no good to us dead."

Rodney really didn't like the sound of that.

"Spoil sport," the alternate Sheppard griped.

"You know," Rodney croaked, "you could… be a little more… hospitable."

"You're right," his double agreed with a sick smile. "I suppose it's only polite to explain the situation to you." He placed the items on the floor and walked over to the scientist, lifting Rodney's head gently before frowning at the bruises and split lip. "John really made a mess of you, didn't he? Naughty Colonel." Behind him, his team-mate chuckled. "On the bright side, it'll help convince your friends how serious our intentions are."

"Leave them out… of this…"

"Now where would the fun be in that?" his copy asked. "You see, originally we were simply going to push you and your Sheppard through the mirror and take your places. No one would have been any the wiser and I could have arranged for a little 'accident' with the device to prevent the two of you from reappearing."

"But your John was quick to rumble us," the alternate Sheppard continued. "You really should have a talk with him about that paranoia. It wasn't very nice of him to sic his long haired guard dog on me."

"Why… did you want… to do that?" Rodney asked, trying to keep them talking. His vision was becoming fuzzy around the edges, making him feel nauseous, so he opted to shut his eyes.

"You mean other than the fact that we were going to be sent to prison for the rest of our lives?" John's copy replied. "We're wanted men, doc."

"Poor thing," the other Rodney crooned, stroking his counterpart's face. "I think we've confused him."

"We'll have to explain it better then," his team-mate said. "Simply put, we were hired by the Trust to steal Ancient technology." He smiled wolfishly. "But things got a little… out of hand."

"You… you lied to… Elizabeth…" Rodney whispered, trying desperately to cling onto the fragile grip he had on consciousness.

"No, that was all true," his twin stated. "Up until the Prometheus, anyway. That was my doing actually, causing an overload in the hyperdrive system. They never even knew what hit them."

"One of your better explosions," Other-John said, giving his friend a proud look.

"Thank you," Other-Rodney replied with a malevolent grin.

"But… I don't understand," Rodney muttered. "Why would… you do that? How…?" He trailed off, feeling sickened. The man in front of him was meant to be _him_, effectively. How could he be so cold about causing the deaths of hundreds of innocent people?

"Because it felt _good_."

Rodney felt like he was trapped in an unending nightmare. "Bastard," he growled, wrenching his head out of his double's grasp. "You're sick…"

"Maybe, but I really don't care any more. Losing Carson and Elizabeth was… well, it was too much to take," the alternate McKay replied after a moment. "For a while, I didn't know what to do with myself, but then I found out that Sheppard was considering the offer from the Trust," he grinned and continued, "so I figured I'd join him."

The grin fell and his face hardened. "After all, I don't have anything else left to lose."

"Neither of us does," John's double added.

"What… are you going to… do with me?" Rodney asked, terrified by what he might hear. The men in front of him were psychopaths, no question about it.

"Since your Colonel Sheppard threw a spanner in the works, so to speak, we're going to have to do things the old fashioned way," the alternate McKay said. "We want sanctuary in this dimension, and you're going to help us get it."

Rodney's heart thumped loudly in his chest as he realised what his counterpart meant – they were going to use him as leverage, a bargaining chip. _Over my dead body… _

"It'll never work," he said defiantly, receiving a whoop from his inner Sheppard.

"And why would that be, Rodney?" Other-John asked.

"Because… Elizabeth won't negotiate… with terrorists," Rodney replied, panting from pain and fear. "And Sheppard… would kill you… rather than… let you stay."

"Oh, believe me, doc, by the time I'm through with you, they'll do whatever we want."

"I should listen to him if I were you," Other-McKay said. "John's an expert when it comes to torture, really has a knack for prolonging the agony." He moved back and retrieved the equipment he'd placed on the ground. "Let's get on with it, shall we?" he asked, looking at his team-mate as he set the camera up and pressed the record button.

John's twin grinned and took off his jacket. "Thought you'd never ask, buddy," he replied before advancing on Rodney.

__________________________________________________________

John woke up slowly, his head throbbing. Blinking to clear his blurred vision, he realised that he was in the infirmary. _What the hell…?_ Looking around, the pilot noted that none of his team-mates were there. That was strange – they usually had to be pried away with a crowbar if he was a resident, especially a certain scientist…

Then a memory surfaced that had him scrambling about in his bed, trying to untangle his body from all the wires surrounding him.

"McKay!" he yelled hoarsely, panic and fear taking control and lending him a frightening strength.

Within seconds, Carson was by his side having heard the commotion from his office. "Colonel, calm down! You'll do yourself a mischief!"

"No, no, no, gotta get out of here, gotta get Rodney," Sheppard babbled frantically, not registering Beckett's words. "Bastards took him…" He lashed out blindly, trying to free himself from the physician's grip. "Let go of me, doc! I've got to go! I have to find him!" He groaned as the room span wildly.

"John Sheppard, you listen to me!" Carson growled in an authoritarian voice. "You've a whopping great concussion! I need you to calm down and stop fighting me." He held onto the Air Force Man with all his might as he repeated himself in an attempt to calm the agitated man.

Finally, the Scotsman's words began to sink in and John ceased his struggles. "Carson?" he asked in a tiny voice, as if he was only just beginning to properly register where he was.

"Aye, lad?"

The soldier turned an alarming shade of green. "Think I'm gonna be sick…"

Beckett sighed. "I'm not surprised, what with the way you were thrashing about." As he spoke, he grabbed a bed pan and gently rolled his friend onto his side, rubbing comforting circles on John's back as he emptied the contents of his stomach.

John let out a shaky breath once he had finished, gladly accepting the glass of water offered. Relieved when it didn't make an immediate reappearance, he closed his eyes. Carson took advantage of the moment to administer an injection.

"What was tha' for?" Sheppard asked suspiciously, knowing that he must have been in a bad way not to notice the needle.

"To help with the nausea, son, and the headache from hell that I'm certain you have."

"How… how's Radek?"

Beckett smiled at Sheppard's selfless question. "The boy'll be fine," he replied. "He's got a mighty fine headache and a couple of nasty bruises on his neck, but nothing that can't be fixed. Now you, on the other hand…"

John gave him a wobbly version of his usual cheeky grin. "Hard headed, doc, you know me. Any word from Lorne yet?"

"Oh, so you remember that part then?" The teasing grin fell as Carson shook his head. "The Major got back about half an hour ago. His team scoured the planet from top to bottom with the help of our friends, the Damarians, but there was neither hide nor hair of them."

The pilot's face remained impassive, but the Scotsman could see the worry flicker in his eyes. "Must've gated somewhere else," he stated eventually. "Maybe to dozens of other planets."

"Radek's working on it, but I fear you're right, son," Beckett replied.

John gave a weak shrug. "It's what I'd do." He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"And speaking of 'doing', what on Earth are you up to?" the doctor demanded as he watched the Colonel pull out the IV line in his hand.

"I can't stay here, Carson," Sheppard explained. "Not while Rodney's in trouble."

Beckett was about to argue, but then remembered the conversation he'd had with McKay earlier that morning and shut his mouth.

John saw the look that crossed his friend's face and stopped changing out of his scrub top to place a hand on Carson's shoulder. "Don't go there, doc," he said firmly. "None of this was your fault."

"I wish I could believe that, John," Beckett replied sadly, "but I can't help but think that if only I hadn't been so heavy-handed, we would nae be in this situation. After what I said to Rodney…" He shook his head. "Honestly, Colonel, I wish I'd never banned him from his lab. I could've prevented this."

Sheppard shook his head. "No, we'd be in even more trouble. Look, McKay's a law unto himself at the best of times. Every now and then, we've gotta be firm with him." He smiled gently. "And before you start beating yourself up about over-stepping your boundaries as a doctor, remind yourself that you were doing it as a friend. Rodney knew… _knows_… that." He grimaced at the slip, telling himself firmly not to go down that road.

He was going to find his errant geek and then he was going to knock seven shades of shit out of his double. _If they've so much as split a hair on McKay's head…_

"Since when did you get so wise?" Carson asked, pulling him away from his vengeful thoughts.

John chuckled. "Let's just say that I had a good teacher." He squeezed the Scot's shoulder affectionately before letting his arm drop.

"So what's the plan then?" Carson asked once Sheppard resumed getting dressed.

The Air Force man scowled. "As much as I hate to say it, the next move is theirs."

"We wait?"

"Yeah, doc, we wait." _And pray,_ John added silently, feeling sick to his stomach.

_We pray…_

__________________________________________________________

Oh, poor boys! Aren't I evil? I wonder what the dark!boys are planning to do to our beloved geek…

If you want to find out, click on the shiny review button. It'll only take a few seconds, and you know feedback makes me type faster!

Go on, you know you want to.


	10. Chapter 10

Oh my _God_, you people are blood-thirsty! O.o I think I like it…

**Varda** – you're an evil, evil woman for giving my muse ideas – and of _course_ I'm gonna hurt our favourite huggable physicist! This is _me _we're talking about, after all. It's what I do. :P

**VampCaro** – that would be a very cool thing to do! Got any ideas? Maybe we should try writing it together…

**Se-chan** – thank you for the kind words! I always love how positive your feedback is.

**azure-lupis** – you rock. 'Nuff said, my dear.

To everyone else who reviewed, many, many thanks as always for the support and encouragement. It really means a lot to me.

Anyways, to appease your Rodney whump/tortured!Rodney needs, I proudly present the next fix… er… I mean chapter. (Calm down, you lot. I'll not be held responsible for anyone dying from a squee overload.) Sorry it took a while, but it turned out to be a really tough one to write!

Oh, and remember that warning about torture I mentioned last time? Well, it most definitely applies here.

Sorry, McKay, but you bleed _so_ well…

________________________________________________________________

**Chapter 10: Video Nasty**

The fist struck him so hard that Rodney was certain that he would end up a brain damaged vegetable. As his double fiddled with the camera and its tripod, the other John had decided to make a start with his side of things.

"Just a little warm-up, doc," he had said conversationally, before proceeding to beat the scientist to within an inch of his life.

It had gotten to the point where Rodney couldn't even feel the individual blows anymore. His entire body throbbed so much that there wasn't a single place that wasn't hurting. Throughout the ordeal, he had tried to concentrate on what his twin was doing, but it had proved to be easier said than done. He couldn't see anything out of his left eye and what little vision he had in the right was blurred around the edges.

From what he could gather, the alternate McKay had connected a device to his laptop; it appeared to be Goa'uld in design but without seeing it up close, Rodney couldn't tell for sure. All he did know was that his copy had been working on a macro for the last forty minutes, presumably to connect the device to the Gate.

The other McKay finished typing and looked up, giving a loud wolf whistle.

Other-Sheppard's head spun round mid punch. "What?" he barked, angry at having been disturbed.

Unlike two days ago, McKay's copy didn't appear cowed by his team-mate's aggression. "Show time, John," he replied. "Remember what we agreed? Rodney has to be _breathing_ when we broadcast." He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down Rodney's spine. "Of course, _afterwards _is a whole 'nother matter."

The alternate John laughed. "Are you ready to dial?"

Rodney frowned, wondering if he'd heard that right. The Gate wasn't in the cave: it was well over a mile away…

Then it struck him. They were going to remote dial.

"Ready when you are, Sheppard." Seeing a nod from his team-mate, the other McKay typed in a command on the laptop before walking over to Rodney. He stuck a hand in one of the Canadian's pockets, grinning as he retrieved his prize – Rodney's GDO. "We're broadcasting live," he whispered, "and this way, we'll be sure to get an audience."

________________________________________________________________

"Incoming wormhole!"

At Chuck's shout, John and Elizabeth ran from her office, coming to an abrupt halt right behind the Canadian technician's chair. He flinched as the Air Force man gripped the back of his seat.

"What's the address?" John asked, leaning so far over Chuck's shoulder that he was practically perched on the man's lap.

"I, uh, I don't know, sir," the technician replied. "There's something blocking the signal. It's like whoever's dialling is… cloaking their location somehow." He looked up, bewildered. "I've never seen anything like it."

"IDC?" Elizabeth asked. It had been almost four hours since Rodney had been taken and the level of worry for her Chief Scientist was verging on hysterical. The knowledge that she had allowed John's double to waltz off through the Gate did nothing to ease the snakes that had taken up residence in her gut, despite everyone's insistence that she had no way of knowing.

_I should have done,_ she thought grimly. _I should have realised…_

"Nothing yet… Oh no, wait!" Chuck corrected himself, tapping on the computer screen in front of him. "It's Dr McKay's code."

"Lower the shield!" Sheppard barked, already halfway down the stairs. Although he wasn't naïve enough to believe that Rodney had been released, he couldn't contain the tiny flicker of hope that ignited at the back of his mind. McKay was a genius after all, and it was entirely possible that he had either convinced their doppelgangers to free him or somehow escaped…

But as soon as he heard the voice that emanated from the radio channel, his heart sank.

"Afternoon, Atlantis," Sheppard's double greeted casually. "Hope you're all behaving yourselves."

John trotted back up the steps to the control room, his hands unconsciously clenching into fists.

"Colonel Sheppard," Elizabeth greeted coolly.

"Dr Weir," came the reply. "We think we have something of yours. Are you missing a stray, perhaps? Brown hair, blue eyes, terrible ego problems, answers to the name 'Rodney'?"

"Quit the mind games," John snapped, his temper and frustration finally erupting. "I don't know what the fuck you're playing at, but it ends right now. D'you hear me?"

"Always so headstrong. Must be an inter-dimensional flaw in you Sheppards." That was the other McKay. "And really, Colonel, that's awful language to be using on a public radio frequency. Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"

"Come and say that to my face, you piece of…"

"Enough!" Weir snapped. "John, I know you're angry, but this isn't helping," she hissed at her Commanding Military Officer.

"You should listen to the pretty lady, buddy," John's copy drawled lazily.

"Where is _our _Dr McKay?" Elizabeth asked, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible.

"Oh, he's… hanging in there." There was a thump, followed by a muted groan.

"What do you want?"

"We have a proposition for you," McKay's twin replied. "But these things are so impersonal over the radio, don't you think?"

"Alright then," John answered. "What are you suggesting?"

"Get Zelenka to stream the following link to the conference room and you'll see," the other McKay said. "We'll give you ten minutes to set everything up before we call you back."

"Wait!" Elizabeth called. "We want to talk to Rodney."

"In ten minutes." There was a brief pause. "Oh, and if you're not ready by then, things will get very messy."

With a whoosh the Gate shut down, leaving a group of speechless, shell-shocked people wondering what the hell had just hit them.

Elizabeth was the first to snap out of her reverie. "Get Radek up here now," she said to Chuck, who nodded and tapped his earpiece. As he spoke to the Czech, she turned to John. "Tell Teyla, Ronon and Carson to meet us in the conference room," she told him. "And let them know that it might not be pleasant."

________________________________________________________________

The group that gathered in the conference room was a sombre one. No one knew what to expect, other than the fact that Elizabeth's warning would doubtless be proved correct.

Zelenka had managed to transfer the video feed to the display screen in a matter of seconds, and was trying to hack the 'cloak' blocking the Gate address from their systems. Judging from the frustrated grunts and curses in Czech, the engineer was having no luck.

"Leave it for now, Z," John said, shutting the lid of the keyboard when it looked as though Radek was two seconds away from taking an axe to the machine. "Let's just see what they want then worry about the details later, okay?"

"My apologies, Colonel," Zelenka replied, fidgeting nervously. He shifted about in his chair restlessly, unable to settle and wondering how the others managed to remain so calm. "I am… how would you say… distracted. I cannot concentrate." His voice dropped down to a hoarse whisper as his fingers drummed out a nervous, uneven rhythm on the table. "And I am worried for Rodney. The others are… I do not wish to alarm anyone, but… They are not sane."

John nodded sympathetically, trying to push aside his own fears. The group needed him to be Lt Col John Sheppard, Military Commander of Atlantis. Rodney would need him to be focused and calm, not on the brink of going apoplectic with the rage slowly building up inside of him. So he took a couple of deep breaths, trying to clear his mind as he set his jaw. There would be time to go into meltdown later, when his geek was safely back in the city. "Yeah, doc," he said, "I know."

"We are all concerned for Dr McKay," Teyla added, resting a hand over Radek's to stop the fretful movements. "But we will do everything in our power to find him and bring him home." Next to her, Ronon nodded in agreement.

"What about your doubles?" the Czech asked in a small voice.

"I think that you'll have to wait your turn, lad," Carson replied. "I've a feeling that there's a long line of people who want to have a wee talk with them first."

"Play nice, doc," Ronon said, trying to hide a smirk.

"Carson!" Elizabeth admonished. "You took an oath!"

Beckett just smiled serenely, making everyone else shudder.

Before anyone else could say any more, the Gate alarm sounded and seconds later, the screen in the conference room fizzled into life. The picture was grainy, but Zelenka typed in a few commands to enhance the resolution and they were rewarded when the alternate McKay's face slowly faded into view.

"Dr McKay," Elizabeth said, straightening in her seat.

"Ah, you managed it then?" he asked, grinning slightly. "This is a much more civilised way to communicate, don't you think? Tell Zelenka it's a job well done." He paused for a moment, his face contorting into a twisted parody of concern. And how _is_ dear Radek? Not feeling too rough around the edges, I hope?"

The engineer trembled in his chair.

"Leave him alone," John growled.

"Ah, Colonel, still in that dreadful mood of yours, I see."

"Bite me."

"We want to see Rodney," Elizabeth cut in quickly, trying to diffuse the situation. "It's been ten minutes."

"So it has," McKay's double agreed amicably. "I don't see the harm." He stepped away from the camera, allowing it to zoom in on the far wall.

The group gave an audible gasp when they saw their missing scientist.

Rodney was a mess. He'd already been beaten so badly that the left side of his face was black, blue and every other shade in between, and his eye was swollen shut. The other had a worryingly glassy look about it, the pupil so dilated that only a tiny sliver of his normally blue iris was visible. He hung limply from his bonds, his left wrist distended and at an unnatural angle.

"Rodney," Elizabeth breathed, unable to hide the quiver in her voice.

As if he heard her, Rodney managed to lift his head in the direction of the camera and gave them a brave but pained smile. "'Liz'beth?" he croaked. "That… you?"

"Yeah, buddy, we're all here," John said in an unusually calm and controlled voice.

"John…" Rodney whispered, trying to push himself more upright. "You… okay?"

"I'm fine, Answer Man," the Air Force man replied, shaking his head. All the pain that the Canadian must have been in and McKay was worried about _him_?

_I am going to kill them. There won't even be enough left to send back through that damn mirror by the time I'm finished with them…_

"As touching as this little reunion is, I think we should get down to business," the other Sheppard said.

"Don't… give them anything," Rodney cut in. "No matter what… they do… don't…" He broke off with a cry of pain as John's double hit him hard in the stomach.

"Stop!" Weir yelled.

The alternate John held his hands up with an innocent look.

"What do you want?" Teyla asked, motioning for Ronon to sit down; he'd leapt to his feet at Rodney's cry.

"Sanctuary and immunity in this dimension," McKay's double replied. "Otherwise Rodney is officially dead."

"You know we can't do that," Elizabeth said sadly.

In the cave, the bys' twins stared at one another. "You can," the other Sheppard insisted. "If you really want to."

"Maybe they just need an incentive," his team-mate said, tilting is head to the side as he looked at their hostage. "Why don't you give them a taste of your talents, John? Just to prove that we aren't screwing around?"

"With pleasure." Sheppard's copy moved across to the far side of the cave, returning with a long, slender pouch. He unrolled it carefully, taking out a thin bladed knife. "Do you like them, doc?" he asked, tilting it this way and that so the blade glinted ominously in the light. "I had them made especially for me. They're as smooth as a hot knife through butter going in, but the fun really starts when I pull 'em back out." He leaned in close to whisper in Rodney's ear, "And feel free to scream all you want, buddy. Let your friends know how much it hurts."

The Atlanteans watched in horror as John's double plunged the knife deep into Rodney's hip, just above the bone. Remarkably, the only sound from the scientists was a quiet whimper, but John could see his friend shaking and knew how much the effort of keeping quiet was costing him. They continued to watch as the man then began to slowly rotate the weapon, wincing at the wet coughs it produced from McKay. The alternate Sheppard then pulled the knife out.

This time, Rodney did scream. As his torturer held the weapon up close to the camera, the gang saw why; as the knife had been rotated, it had spat out tiny barbs which had pulled out chunks of flesh along the way.

"You fucking bastards!" the Colonel shouted, thumping the table.

Unfortunately for Rodney, John's outburst only served to egg his twin on. With a chuckle, he moved back to his victim and repeated the entire process on the physicist's thigh.

"You really do have a filthy mouth," McKay's copy said as Rodney's cries died away. "I'm surprised no one's cut out your tongue yet."

Unable to watch any more, the girls looked away.

"Please stop this," Carson pleaded, wondering how much more pain his friend could stand.

"Once you agree to our terms," the alternate McKay said. "You can put an end to this right now if you want."

"No," Elizabeth said. "We do not negotiate with terrorists."

"Funny, that was what he said," the other John replied as he replaced the now blood soaked blade back into his pouch. He pulled out another device, keeping it close to his body and Rodney finally broke.

"Please, p-please d-don't do this," he begged, trembling.

"Sorry, doc," John's copy said in a tone that suggested he was anything but apologetic, "but your friends won't co-operate."

"Rodney?" Sheppard said, alarmed at his friend's reaction. "What is it? What's he got?"

"Oh my God," Carson breathed.

"Doc?" asked Ronon.

"Carson, what is it?" asked Elizabeth. "What's he holding?"

Rodney was shaking violently, trying to pull away from the ropes holding him in place as the alternate John advanced on him. The man moved behind the Canadian and thrust the stick into the small of his back.

In the conference room, the team paled as they saw the orange light emanating from Rodney's eyes and mouth, flinching at the scream of agony.

"What is that?" Teyla asked.

"A Goa'uld pain stick," Beckett replied, his face pale.

"Enough!" Weir cried, unable to see her friend suffer.

"Do you agree to our terms?" McKay's double asked.

She shook her head mutely.

Sheppard's double struck Rodney with the pain stick twice more before the scientist went limp. "You'll find us at the following address," he said, holding up a piece of paper. "Colonel Sheppard is to come alone and unarmed in a supply-loaded jumper. If you try and sneak anyone else through with you, or smuggle any kind of weaponry on board, we'll kill your friend."

"You've got one hour," McKay's copy said as the feed shut down.

"What do we do?" asked Ronon, breaking the shocked silence. "If we don't give 'em what they want, the little man's dead."

"And he's just as dead once they've got the supplies they need," John shot back.

"Well, what do you suggest?" asked Elizabeth. "We don't have much time."

"We need to be creative," Carson said.

"What d'you mean, doc?"

"We must think like Rodney," Zelenka replied, catching onto Beckett's idea. "We must be cunning, no?"

For the first time that afternoon, John smiled. "What did you have in mind, Z?"

________________________________________________________________

Ha, ha! Go on, gang, go get them! Reviews are always appreciated – and if you're all good, I may even hurt Rodney some more!


	11. Chapter 11

Woo-hoo! Many more lovely comments! Personal best for review numbers!

**Elisa** – thank you! Really glad you've caught up – I always love your feedback! And yes, evil is good…

**Sandy Toehs **– hello! I'm doing a happy dance cos you're enjoying this; it's proving to be a hell of a lot harder to write than I thought!

**azure-lupis – **embrace your dark side! It's more fun that way…

**JessaLucas – **no, you're not horrible! Everyone has different whump tastes and I respect that. I love your honesty; so much so that my next fic's gonna be John whumper. (Poor Rodney'll need a breather after this…) Just tell me what you want to see and I'll make it happen.

**Shadow Chaser – **oh noes, you saw through my cunning plan! I'm a bit wary of going to OTT, but be prepared for evil!John…

**Iamkagomeiloveinuyasha – **yep, they are. It's been loads of fun imagining what Rodney and John would be like if they went all 'dark side'. :p

**Black Koneko Ribbon Princess – **Yippee! Don't die - or you won't find out what happens next! Lol. :D

**Silverthreads **– I know, bad habit, sorry. *scuffs toe whilst looking like a naughty schoolgirl* I can't help it, but I'm glad you're still with me!

**Mechia132 **– don't you worry about that, my dear. What goes around comes around and there's vengeance to be had…

**Varda** – hmm, okay, maybe you're not _that _evil… ;p Glad you enjoyed that; I got a tingle of evil glee in my tummy when I wrote it – just couldn't resist those knives. Maybe I need professional help…

**Se-chan91** – Yay! And of course I'll continue – it's getting to the good bit now…

As a reward, I give you the next thrilling instalment, hot off the press. Sorry it's a bit short, but the original chapter would've been too long so I've had to split it. I'm posting the next bit tomorrow, provided that I finish tweaking it.

______________________________________________________________

**Chapter 11: Subtle Deception**

The atmosphere in the Jumper Bay was unmistakably tense as the last of the checks were carried out. The maintenance crews shared worried looks and exchanged whispered conversations between themselves, casting furtive glances towards the sole occupant of Jumper One. Although none of them dared to say it out loud, the one thought on everyone's minds was that John Sheppard seemed scared.

As he sat in the cockpit of the small ship, the Air Force man tried to ignore what was going on around him and focus on the plan. The last thing he wanted was to prove the crews correct.

He _was _scared.

At first, he'd put it down to the usual pre-mission jitters, but as he'd watched the supplies being loaded and gone over the final details of Zelenka's scheme, the unease had morphed into full blown terror. The soldier in him was demanding that he suck it up and use his fear, that he should turn it into something he could exploit to gain an advantage. The rest of him, however, wanted to run away from the whole thing and not emerge until the dust had settled. Trying to still his trembling hands and calm his frantic heartbeat, he realised the reason behind his sudden apprehension: Rodney's life now rested solely on his actions.

It wasn't the first time he'd been in this kind of situation – hell, there had been at least a dozen or so occasions when he'd had to pull off a crazy stunt or two to rescue his team-mates – but the stakes were impossibly high. If he screwed this up…

"_Colonel Sheppard, are you set?"_

The voice that came over the Jumper's radio made John jump. Letting out the breath he'd subconsciously been holding, he cleared his throat. "I'm ready when you are, control," he replied. Years of experience helped him to hide the nervousness. "Let's get this show on the road."

"_John…"_

The pilot sighed inwardly as he heard Elizabeth. What he was about to attempt was dicey to say the least, and the expedition leader's shaking tone wasn't helping. "Elizabeth," he replied as patiently as he could, hoping that she'd hurry up before he lost his nerve.

"_Just… be safe, alright?"_ she pleaded. _"And bring him home."_

John gave a cocky smile that he didn't feel – even though he knew no one could see it. "You bet," he said, powering up the ship with a thought.

Seconds later, the Jumper descended into the control room and hovered in front of the Gate. Sheppard dialled the address given by his double then activated the concealed tracking device that Radek had fitted underneath the right drive pod.

"I'll be back before you know it," the Colonel said before his ship disappeared into the wormhole.

______________________________________________________________

_**One hour earlier…**_

… "What do we do?" asked Ronon, breaking the shocked silence. "If we don't give 'em what they want, the little man's dead."

"And he's just as dead once they've got the supplies they need," John shot back.

"Well, what do you suggest?" asked Elizabeth. "We don't have much time."

"We need to be creative," Carson said.

"What d'you mean, doc?"

"We must think like Rodney," Zelenka replied, catching onto Beckett's idea. "We must be cunning, no?"

For the first time that afternoon, John smiled. "What did you have in mind, Z?"

The Czech gave them a wily grin. "They have used stolen technology to execute their plan. What I suggest is that we do the same."

"But we do not have any stolen equipment," Teyla said, looking offended and confused in equal measure. "And we are not thieves."

"We don't have to be, lass," Carson cut in. "All the lad means is that we've got to play them at their own game."

The group listened as Radek outlined his idea: he and his engineering team had been working on a tracking device that could be attached to the Jumpers. What he proposed was to fit said gizmo to the ship, then have John pilot it to the meeting point. That way, the soldier would appear to be alone while the Atlanteans could keep tabs on him. "It is still in early stages, but should work well enough for our needs," the engineer said.

"But why bother?" asked Ronon. "Why don't we just follow in a cloaked Jumper?"

"For a start, the Gate address my copy gave us isn't gonna be the correct location," John said. "More than likely, it'll be to stop us finding them. It's what I'd do," he added when the Satedan gave him an incredulous look.

"And there's every chance that they'll be able to monitor what comes through the Gate," Elizabeth added. "This_ is_ another version of McKay we're talking about after all."

"That settles it then," Sheppard said. "How soon can you have your doohickey fitted, doc?"

Zelenka frowned as he thought. "Will take maybe forty minutes," he replied hesitantly. "Is easy to install but configuring readings will be hard part."

"Well, we'd better get started then…"

"Wait a second," Carson cut in. "This seems bloody risky to me. I know I'm just a medical doctor and not an engineer, but how do you know they won't be able to detect the tracker?"

"Dr Beckett is correct," Teyla said. "This plan is dangerous. How do you know it will be successful?"

"There is risk," Radek agreed, "but if we place tracker under drive pod, the jumper's energy signature should mask reading from our little toy."

"And besides, we all know that Rodney would be the first person to pull this kind of crazy stunt if it was any of us in his position," John added. "Are we all agreed?"

He and Radek were out of the door before anyone could argue.

"I don't like it," Ronon said once the doors had shut again. "Don't know why, but it feels like a setup to me."

"Agreed," Weir said. "Go and find Major Lorne and Lieutenant Edison. Have them put their strike teams on standby."

As the last two members of SGA-1 filed out, Elizabeth turned to Beckett. "How long has Rodney got?" she asked quietly. "I didn't want to bring it up in front of John and the others but… I need to know." She shuddered as the images of her friend being tortured replayed in her mind.

The Scotsman shook his head sadly. "From what I could see, the lad's lost a fair bit of blood and has a very nasty head injury. Depending on the degree of neural trauma…"

"Best guess, Carson," the dark-haired woman pushed.

"At the most, we're looking at four hours. He does nae look it, but Rodney's a scrappy bugger. If anyone was going to beat the odds, it'd be him."

"And worst case?"

"Worst case… Two hours maybe less." He let out a shaky sigh. "Whatever John and Radek have planned, we'd better pray that it works."

______________________________________________________________

_**The present…**_

…John shook his head as he tried to push the memories aside. He had been waiting next to the Gate on M7S-804 for five minutes, with nothing else to do but replay everything. The longer he waited, the tenser he got – so much so that he was beginning to wonder whether this really was such a good idea after all.

_Maybe I should've tackled the bastard when I had the chance_.

Not having his flak jacket or sidearm was starting to get to him. Although he'd been trained to make weapons out of anything close by and excelled at hand to hand combat, John felt naked without his 9 mil strapped to his leg. He wasn't completely unarmed – one of Ronon's smaller daggers was hidden in the back of his boot. And just in case they found that one, the buckle of his belt also had a blade hidden in it. That had been a birthday present from Rodney, mainly because the physicist had gotten fed up with Sheppard moaning about how many knives Ronon had.

The one thing that was bothering him more than anything was why their twins had sabotaged the mirror. Maybe it was an insurance policy of some kind; thinking about it, the Air Force man decided that it made sense. That way, if the team didn't deliver there would be no way to send them back.

_And I've got the feeling that they don't __**want **__to go back…_

A burst of static brought him back the present and he saw that the Gate had been activated. "That you, you sickos?" he snarled, trying to cover the fact that he'd been caught off-guard.

"_Nice of you to join us Colonel," _McKay's double greeted. _"I trust you've come alone and unarmed as requested?"_

"Believe it or not, I'm a man of my word, which is more than I can say about the two of you," he replied. "Now how about we quit fooling around? I've got your Jumper."

"_You'll receive an address in about thirty seconds. Dial it and fire a drone when you get to the other side. We'll radio again once we see your signal." _There was a pause before McKay's alternate spoke again, _"And just a little reminder, John – if you try and trick us, or we detect anyone else, dear Rodney will find out the hard way that my Sheppard has an itchy trigger finger."_

The Gate shut down, but not before the HUD of Jumper One flickered into life. Recognising the symbols flashing across the screen, John dialled the address, hoping that he wasn't about to make a terrible mistake.

______________________________________________________________

Hmm… Wonder what's gonna happen…

If you're all really good, there may be an epic smack-down between two characters… but only if you behave. ;D


	12. Chapter 12

WOW!!! 70+ reviews! O.o

I'm a little bit speechless…

Anyways, thanks to everyone who's reviewed, added this story to their faves, added ME to their faves or put it on alert. I really am staggered. Thank you, you lovely people. XD

Oh, and special thanks to **Varda**, who wanted to know what the evil twins were doing to Rodney, and to **dfbbear**, who provided the twist.

**WARNING:** there's quite a bit of violence in this chapter, so you may want to look away if blood makes you squeamish…

________________________________________________________

**Chapter 12: Here Comes the Cavalry…**

_**In the half hour before John gated to M7S-804…**_

Rodney was somewhere in a dark void, blissfully unaware of the pain that flooded his body. He felt like he was floating, and while it was disconcerting, he preferred it to the agony he had endured a short while ago. Unfortunately, his respite was soon snatched away as something cold and wet was tipped over his head.

Coughing and spluttering, he reluctantly forced his good eye to open and groaned softly as he realised that he hadn't been rescued.

_Yet, _his internal Sheppard reminded him sharply. _You haven't been rescued __**yet**__. You know I'm coming to get you. Just hold on a little longer…_

"Hi there, Sleepy Head," the other John greeted with a quiet chuckle as he tossed the water bucket to the side. Rodney couldn't help flinching as the sound of it hitting the stone floor reverberated in his pounding head. "You don't want to miss the good bit, do you?" John's copy asked, as he moved away to allow his team-mate to take a look.

Rodney couldn't stop shivering. Whether it was from shock or the blood loss was open for debate, but neither of those options were particularly helpful. _Come on, buddy, stay focused. Don't think about that; just concentrate on the little things._

_That's easy for __**you**__ to say! _Rodney grumbled back. _You're not the one hanging in a pool of your own blood! And you don't have holes in places where there shouldn't be any!_

"Oh, John," his double scolded. "Did you really have to make such a mess? Blood's a bitch to get out of stone." He gave the Canadian an almost apologetic look. "We really ought to try and stop the bleeding. After all, it'll be no fun if you're dead when the good Colonel gets here."

"I've got just the thing," Sheppard's twin said, rooting around in his backpack.

"Won't… come," Rodney managed to grit out, sweat beading on his forehead at the effort. "Not… worth… risk…"

"You underestimate the power of friendship," his copy replied. "He'll be here."

The alternate John stood up, pulling a bottle out of his bag with a flourish. Rodney eyed it apprehensively; it contained a clear liquid, which he hoped to God he wouldn't have to drink. "This'll soon have you up and about again."

"Wha…?"

"Hold him."

The other McKay moved behind Rodney, wrapping his hands around the scientist's waist as his team-mate advanced. "Got this a couple of years ago," John's copy explained. "Its original purpose was to clean the drive pods of the Jumpers, but I prefer it for this." He opened the cap and allowed a few drops to trickle down onto Rodney's thigh injury.

At first, the warmth produced by the sweet smelling liquid was a pleasant relief to the cold eating away at McKay, but within seconds he was in agony. The pain was excruciating, almost as if he was being burnt by acid. He refused to utter a sound though, not wanting to give either of them the satisfaction.

Other-John repeated the process on Rodney's hip.

He wasn't going to scream.

The burning sensation spread down both legs, making him feel as though he'd been set on fire.

_He wasn't going to scream…_

"The Ancients called it 'Fire of Heaven'," the other Rodney crooned in his ear. "A pretty accurate description, really. Now be a good little physicist and tell Uncle John how much it _hurts._" He moved his hand and dug his fingers into the wound above Rodney's hip.

An unwilling howl burst from McKay's chest, echoing around the cavern as he writhed. Laughter chased it as the two men stepped away from their victim.

"Impressive," the alternate Rodney complimented as McKay's cries dwindled to pained whimpers.

"Why, thank you, doc," John's copy replied, grinning with dark pride.

An alarm sounded from the laptop, prompting both men to move further away from Rodney.

"That him?"

Other-McKay nodded. "Right on time." He tapped in a couple of commands to activate the Gate before tapping his radio three times.

"_That you, you sickos?"_ John snarled.

"Nice of you to join us Colonel," McKay's double greeted. "I trust you've come alone and unarmed as requested?"

"_Believe it or not, I'm a man of my word, which is more than I can say about the two of you,"_ came the reply. _"Now how about we quit fooling around? I've got your Jumper."_

"You'll receive an address in about thirty seconds. Dial it and fire a drone when you get to the other side. We'll radio again once we see your signal." McKay's alternate paused to trigger the data burst before he spoke again. "And just a little reminder, John – if you try and trick us, or we detect anyone else, dear Rodney will find out the hard way that my Sheppard has an itchy trigger finger."

The laptop beeped, informing them that the message had been received and the alternate Rodney cut the connection. He grinned up at his team-mate. "Let the game begin."

________________________________________________________

_**The present…**_

The moment he saw the address flash across the HUD, John felt a wave of dread wash over him. As the Jumper exited the Gate on M8S-393, he had to screw up his eyes against the blinding glare that assaulted him. He had only ever visited the planet once, and even then it had been at night. The Atlanteans had considered it as a potential alpha site back in their first year, but had quickly abandoned it – and for good reason.

M8S-393, although breath-taking, was dangerous. With its twin suns, the surface temperature during the day was insane, bordering on lethal. John remembered a snatch of the conversation he'd had with Weir, back when they'd been going over the potential sites: 'ridiculously hot' was what he'd said at the time. Now, though, he realised just how much of an understatement that was.

Even with the climate control in the ship, just looking at the haze thrown up by the suns made the Air Force man break out in a sweat. He scanned the area in front of him, looking for a gap in the rainforest to fire the drone as requested. Seeing nothing of the sort, he sent the missile up into the air, making it explode with a quick mental nudge.

The pilot smiled a little as he remembered the time he'd taught McKay how to pull off that stunt. The beaming, utterly joyful smile on his fiend's expressive face had been priceless.

Sheppard's attention was abruptly brought back as a high pitched whine caught his ears. Looking at the display, he found the cause – the unrelenting heat had melted Radek's tracker.

"Crap," he breathed, turning the alarm off. He just hoped that the engineer had been able to gather enough data to track him.

Before he could think any further on the matter, the HUD came up with a set of co-ordinates. Setting the course, John steeled himself. "So much for plan A," he muttered, scrubbing at his hair in frustration. "Looks like it's just me then," he told his inner McKay. "I just need you to hang on a little while longer, okay?"

_Funny, _came the acerbic reply.

"Yeah, and you know it," John shot back. "You better be alive when I find you, Answer Man, or I'll kick your ghostly ass."

Soon enough, Sheppard reached the destination – a series of caves spanning out from a waterfall. Landing Jumper One next to the largest, he took a couple of deep breaths before walking to the rear hatch and opening the door.

The heat nearly knocked him off his feet and he stumbled down the ramp, shedding his jacket as he went. _Not even Afghanistan was as hot as this, _he thought. His less than manly staggering came to an abrupt halt as he felt the cool metal of a P-90 muzzle pressed under his ear. He caught the familiar click of the safety being removed and his mouth went dry.

"Wotcha," his double hissed, pushing the gun into Sheppard's jaw so hard that the soldier cold feel the bruise forming. "Let's take a walk."

A sharp push between his shoulder blades sent the Colonel lurching forwards into the cavern. He slipped and reeled over the uneven ground, almost falling flat on his face at one point. The gloom made it impossible to see and every time his night vision began to kick in, his copy swung the light on his gun into the pilot's eyes. It was cooler down in the tunnels, though, which was a relief: Sheppard was beginning to feel like he'd stepped into a shower with his clothes on.

Finally, they arrived at a large opening. John blinked the spots from his eyes, squinting until they adjusted to the light. As he saw his missing team-mate, he let out an inhuman sounding growl.

"Hello," McKay's copy said. "Nice to see you again." He nodded to his team-mate, who shoved Sheppard face first against the wall.

"You know, you really should've bought me a drink before you started manhandling me," John quipped as his twin started to search him for hidden weapons.

The other Sheppard laughed and rewarded John's humour with a punch to the kidney. The pilot grunted in pain, but managed to remain on his feet.

"I'm not really much of a gentleman, buddy," his double replied. "Just ask your friend." He bent down and tugged Ronon's knife from John's boot. "Not nice," he growled, throwing the weapon across to the other Rodney and spinning John around to face him.

Sheppard grinned. "Takes a bastard to know one," he smirked, "but I guess you already knew that."

His twin lashed out with a boot, intending to kick John in the ribs, but the pilot easily anticipated the move. He grabbed his copy's foot in mid air and twisted it, feeling a perverse thrill of pleasure as he heard a cry from the other man. The alternate Sheppard fell onto his back, bringing his injured leg close to his body as John stepped over him.

The other McKay gave a yell of anger and launched himself at the pilot, bringing him down with a tackle. John struggled free himself from the other Rodney's grip, cursing that he'd forgotten that the man had a weight advantage. He managed to free an arm enough to claw at the rocks on the ground as McKay's double wrapped his hands around Sheppard's throat.

John gagged as the pressure on his windpipe increased, willing his fingers to latch onto a particularly heavy rock. Just as the spots started flashing in front of him, his hand clamped down on his prize and he swung with all of his might.

There was a sickening crunch as the stone connected solidly with the alternate McKay's head, and the grip around John's throat went slack. He coughed, gasping in huge lungfuls of air as the other man fell limply to the side. Sheppard rolled to his knees, taking a moment to get his bearings.

Unfortunately, that was all the time his double needed.

In one easy swing, he brought up one of his handcrafted knives and buried it in John's shoulder right up to the hilt. The Air Force man let out a scream as the blade tore through his flesh, his hands scrabbling at his double's arms. The other Sheppard grinned and went to rotate the handle to push the barbs into John's body, but wasn't prepared for what happened next.

John grabbed his twin's wrist and pulled himself backwards off of the blade. Once free, he twisted his attacker's arm violently, while at the same time pulling his leg out from underneath him. Then, in a move that would have made Ronon proud, he scythed the other Sheppard's legs out from under him, causing the man to fall onto his back.

Sheppard grabbed the weapon and straddled his copy, leaning most of his weight into the other man's diaphragm. "Give me a reason, you piece of shit," he hissed, positioning the knife over his copy's left shoulder. "Give me a fucking reason why I shouldn't just gut you like a fish."

"You don't have the balls," his counterpart croaked, blood covering his teeth.

John growled and drove the blade into the man beneath him, smiling savagely at the choked groan. "Is that all you can come up with?" he asked as he twisted the handle around as far as it could go. "Is that really the best you can do?" He grabbed the handle with both hands and pulled the knife out, tilting his head to avoid the exit spray. "Here's a news flash for ya, _buddy_: that's not good enough." He moved the tip of the blade to the hollow of his double's throat, pushing just enough to draw blood.

"You're… not… killer… John." The words were so quiet that for a moment, the soldier wondered if he'd heard them. He twisted his head around to see his Rodney staring blearily at him. "G-good man… not… not like… him…"

Sheppard looked back at his copy, surprised to see that the man was laughing. "What's the joke, shit-head?" he snarled, tightening his grip on the knife.

"You," the man replied, as his team-mate brought a rock down on the back of John's skull. The Air Force man gave a soft sigh as he folded up.

The other McKay helped his team-mate up, hissing as he saw the damage to the man's shoulder. "You okay?" he asked, motioning to the wound.

"I'm good, Rodney," John's copy replied. "Nothing a little Tylenol won't fix."

"C'mon, then," Rodney's counterpart said. "Let's grab the Jumper and get off this shit-hole."

But his friend was staring thoughtfully at the others. "Actually, I've got a better idea," he said, turning to the scientist.

"Oh no," the alternate McKay exclaimed. "That wasn't part of the plan. I'm not your personal punch bag."

"Do you really want to go to jail?" John's double snarled. "It'll work. I'll even knock you out with some Morphine first if you're that chicken."

Other-Rodney considered for a moment before nodding. "Alright," he agreed after a moment, "but what about these two?"

His friend grinned. "Leave 'em here. They'll never make it back to the Gate. And if we tell their friends how our 'evil twins' died in the fight, they won't know any better, will they?"

"Good argument, clearly explained. So what's first on your agenda?"

"I think the first play's gonna be a broken bone or two," the other Sheppard said, as he strode up to his team-mate, brandishing a stone.

________________________________________________________

Wow-a-zow! Evilness abounds!

Will the rest of the gang be fooled?

Will evil!John really beat his Rodney up?

And what's going to happen to OUR Sheppard and McKay?

Answers soon!


	13. Chapter 13

OMG!!! I'm really close to the big 100 on the review front! C'mon, guys, I'm gunning for my first century!

I have to apologise for the delay in posting this chapter – I had a really bad fall at work on Monday just gone and dislocated my wrist. As a result, I've been whacked out on Codeine for the last few days and although La-la Land was very pretty (and strangely colourful), it wasn't so good as far as the writing's concerned.

Tell you what – let me give y'all a benchmark. Remember how loopy Rodney went in 'Runner' when he got dosed with Morphine? Well, tone it down just a wee bit and you'll be fairly close to how I've been all week. (Even my militant badgers were scared. I think it had something to do with the tap dancing penguins – the ones that I was convinced were tangoing across my living room floor.)

And don't mention the whole 'one handed typing' issue – not unless you want to see a girl go postal. Damn typos…

_Anyways…_

**Attention:**this author's note contains spoilers. Look away now if you don't want to see! Quickly. No, quicker than that! Imagine there's a Wraith or something! ... *_Sighs_*. Never mind.

Things are getting a bit tense, aren't they? So, without further ado, I give you some answers. Oh, and just to avoid confusion… **Cue spoiler!!!**Evil!John and Rodney are referred to as 'Sheppard' and 'McKay' respectively throughout this chapter, seeing as how our two lads are still stuck on the planet.

Enjoy!

______________________________________________________________

**Chapter 13: Honey, We're Home**

Elizabeth was beside herself with worry. She had known deep in her gut that something would go wrong, that there was no way that John's plan would work. It had all seemed too neat, too much of an easy fix, but the pilot had convinced her. Not even Ronon could talk him out of it.

So when Zelenka had looked up at the group with large, terrified eyes, her fears were confirmed. The tracker had suddenly stopped transmitting.

"Did you manage to pinpoint his location?" she had asked, her stomach writhing and a bitter taste in her mouth.

The engineer refused to look away from his monitor. "One moment, please," was all he'd said as he continued to study the readings.

The 'moment' had become too long for the group's liking, leading to Dex thumping the console next to Radek as his frustration and impatience got the better of him. "Some time today would be good, doc," he had growled.

"Apologies," Zelenka replied before shaking his head sadly. "I am sorry, Dr Weir. Transmission failed too soon to receive accurate details. I have lost Jumper."

"What would cause such a thing to happen?" asked Teyla. "Could the tracker have been damaged?"

"Is most likely," the Czech said. "But I do not know how. It could be any number of things."

No one wanted to think too hard about the implications of that particular statement.

"This isn't your fault, Radek," Elizabeth had said firmly. "Colonel Sheppard knew the risks involved. We'll just have to wait and see."

That had proved to be much easier said than done. Three hours later, and she was about to start sending out teams to scout various addresses when a shout from the control room had her running from her office.

"Unscheduled off-world activation!"

"What is it?" she asked, looking between Chuck and Radek.

"We're receiving Colonel Sheppard's IDC," the technician replied.

"Let him through!"

The shield lowered and Jumper One glided silently into the Gate room. The automatic pilot took it up into the hangar bay, but not before Elizabeth caught sight of Sheppard slumped over the console.

"Get a medical team up there now!" she demanded, already racing down the stairs and calling for the other two members of SGA-1 to meet her. She dreaded to think what she might find when she got there.

______________________________________________________________

"How are they, Carson?" Weir asked as the Scotsman finally came out into the waiting room.

Nearly six hours had passed since Jumper One and its occupants had returned to the city. Everyone had been too shocked to do anything other than stare silently as Sheppard and McKay were both rushed from the ship on gurneys.

Next to her, Ronon got to his feet, trying hard not to loom over the doctor.

"Both bloody lucky," Beckett replied, letting out a breath. "John's shoulder wound was messy and took a fair bit of time and effort to patch up. He'll be out of commission for a while, but that's never stopped him before."

The Satedan chuckled.

"And what of Rodney?" asked Teyla, gripping the arms of her chair. "Did John find him in time?"

Carson smiled warmly. "Aye, pet, he did." He sat down between the two women and grasped their hands. "I'll not lie to you; he's got a nasty concussion that had me worried for a while, but our boy will be fine. I've had to reset his arm and stitch up those stab wound, but there's no sign of infection. Luckily, they were nae as deep as I originally thought and I've no doubt that he'll be up and about sooner than you might expect."

A ripple of relief passed through the group as Beckett stretched and stood up again.

"Can we se 'em, doc?" Dex asked, looking hopefully at the doors.

The physician considered for a moment then nodded his approval. "Aye, lad, I don't see why not. But only for a few minutes, you hear?" he stated as he led them through to the ward. "They need to rest and Rodney's still very weak."

The sight that met them made their hearts stop for a moment. McKay, despite Carson's reassurances, looked half dead as he lay asleep in his cot. His arm was sporting a new cast, and the heart monitor beeped quietly next to him. His face was almost unrecognisable under the swelling and bruises, while the parts that weren't black or blue were frighteningly pale. He let out a small moan as he shifted in his drugged sleep.

Teyla moved across to him and laid a gentle hand on his forehead, soothing him with quiet words in a language none of the others recognised. His fretful movements stopped and the Athosian kissed his hair before moving aside.

Ronon was next up, standing awkwardly next to his team-mate. Looking around with a tinge of embarrassment, he gently squeezed McKay's shoulder, muttering something in the man's ear. That done, he straightened before giving the others a look that said quite clearly 'I'll deny everything if anyone asks'.

"Do I get a hug too?"

The group turned to see Sheppard staring at them sleepily. His team-mates crossed the space separating the two beds. "John," Teyla greeted. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a kebab," the Air Force man replied with a grimace. "But I'm still here." He looked over to McKay, his forehead creasing with concern. "How's he doing?"

"Doc says the little man's gonna be fine," the ex runner said. "Damn fool thing to do to yourself," he added with a smirk, motioning to the pilot's arm.

"Yeah," Sheppard agreed with a rueful grin. "Guess I weaved when I should've ducked."

"We should let you rest," Teyla said, embracing him in an Athosian hug. "We will return in the morning. If Rodney awakens, tell him we were here and that we are glad that he is home."

"No flirting with the nurses," Ronon added as they left.

Elizabeth hovered nervously near the foot of his bed.

"What's up, 'Beth?" Sheppard asked, wriggling into his blankets with a shiver. He'd forgotten how cold the human body felt when it had lost blood. "Told you I'd get him back."

"John, what happened?" the expedition leader asked quietly. "We lost you for three hours! We didn't know where you were, we had no way of tracking you… I thought…" she trailed off, shaking her head.

"Hey," the pilot said, reaching over to grab her wrist. "Don't go there. It didn't happen, okay? We're both here, we're both safe."

"And… what about the others? Are they…? Will they come back? What happens if they try again?"

Sheppard let go and looked away, his body trembling.

"John?"

"They won't be a problem any more," he replied in a hollow voice.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because they're dead."

Elizabeth stared at him, not sure whether to be relieved or horrified at the pilot's admission. "What happened?"

"I killed them is what happened!" Sheppard snarled, suddenly angry. "They died in the fight! It was them or us!"

"Okay, John," Weir soothed, trying to calm her hammering heartbeat. The rage was new and definitely less than welcome, but she forced herself to remain neutral. Her friend had obviously been through one hell of an ordeal and goading him into talking about it was best left until some of his surface emotions had cooled. "It's okay. I understand, alright? I shouldn't have pushed you, I'm sorry."

"Me too," he replied, offering an apologetic smile. "Can… can we not do this right now?" he asked in a small voice. "I… I can't…"

"Of course," she replied, taking hold of his hand and rubbing the back of it with her thumb in an attempt to both reassure and calm him. "Whenever you're ready."

"Thanks," he said. "Guess I'm still a bit freaked."

"Then I'll leave you to get some rest," Elizabeth replied. "And just so you know, you did the right thing." She gave his hand a quick squeeze and walked away, watching Carson do his checks.

______________________________________________________________

The next morning, Carson allowed Sheppard to leave the infirmary – provided that he rested and took his meds. Much to his surprise, there was very little resistance.

"I mean it, son," the Scotsman warned. "I know what you're like. That bloody knife did a lot of damage and you're on medical leave until I say otherwise. So unless you want to end up back here with an infection or worse…"

The Colonel held up his good hand in submission: the other was pinned to his chest in a sling, courtesy of Nurse Bella. Beckett had the power to ground him, so staying in the man's good books was a smart move. Besides, his shoulder was already beginning to throb and the Air Force man doubted he'd cope even with light duties for at least a couple of days. "I hear you, doc. I'll be a good little Lt Col and take my pills, okay? And I'll come in for regular checks too."

"Aye, that you will, or I'll send Bella to drag your arse back here for me," Beckett replied, smirking. No one argued with Bella.

"Hell of a woman," Sheppard said with a grin. "She'd make even a Wraith think twice before not listening to her."

"You should… ask her on a… date, Colonel…"

Both men wheeled around to see McKay looking up at them with a slightly glazed expression. "Welcome back, lad," Carson said softly, moving to his friend's side to get a better look at him. "How are you feeling? Any pain?"

The Canadian grimaced slightly, but gave Beckett a lop-sided smile. "Leg's a bit sore," he rasped, "and my face aches… but I'm okay."

"You had us worried for a minute there, buddy," Sheppard said thickly, sitting down on the edge of his team-mate's bed. "You gave the doc a hell of a scare." He reached out and gently squeezed the scientist's shoulder.

Carson frowned as he saw the flinch from McKay, but put it down to his experience with the pilot's doppelganger. He busied himself with jotting down the readings from the heart monitor while Sheppard continued to talk.

"Listen, Rodney, I'm gonna go grab a shower and a bite then I'll be right back. You behave for Carson, you hear? No moaning or giving the poor man any grief."

McKay looked almost hurt for a moment before it gave way to concern "You okay, John?" he asked quietly.

"I'm fine," Sheppard replied sharing a slightly exasperated but amused look with the physician. "Don't worry about me. Just concentrate on getting yourself better, alright?" He stood up and grinned. "Be back before you miss me," he said as he walked out into the corridor.

"So when can I get out of here?" McKay asked once the two of them were alone.

"Rodney!" Carson admonished. "Good God, man! You were nearly dead not twelve hours ago!"

"Well, I guess I got better."

"Dammit, son, that's not even funny!" the Scotsman growled.

"Do I look like I'm laughing?" McKay shot back angrily. The two men stared at each other in a silent battle of wills for a long moment, until the physicist let out a sigh and looked away. "I'm sorry, Carson," he said quietly after a while. "I didn't mean…"

"No, it's alright," Beckett replied, perching on the edge of his friend's bed. "You must have gone through hell."

"Yeah, I did," McKay said. "I just… I need air, space… It's too cramped in here." His voice softened as he looked back up, his blue eyes standing out against the contusions on his face. "Please, Carson, I'll do anything. Check in on the hour, every hour, take as many pills as you want… Hell, I'll even go in a damn wheelchair. I don't care. I just have to get _out _of here."

As he listened, something in Beckett's heart broke. He hated to see his friend in such a state, and knew deep down that being held captive underground for the better part of a day wouldn't have helped the Canadian's claustrophobia any. Although he was reluctant to discharge the man so soon after surgery, McKay's wounds hadn't been as bad as he'd anticipated and he _did _seem stronger... In fact, provided that he took it easy, McKay could probably cope on crutches.

"Aye, mo chara," he replied after a long moment. "We'll see how you're doing once Colonel Sheppard gets back."

McKay gave him a shaky grin and grasped his friend's hand tightly. "Thank you," he whispered.

"You're welcome, Rodney," Carson replied with a warm smile. He gently extricated himself and stood up. "Now get some rest, okay?" Seeing the tired but grateful nod, the Scotsman left McKay and headed to his office, wondering if the scientist had been serious about the wheelchair.

______________________________________________________________

Two days afterwards, McKay was indeed up and about and without a wheelchair. Carson had restricted his duties, and booked the physicist in for some sessions with Heightmeyer – the only difficulty had been getting his stubborn friend to agree. In the end, it was Sheppard who provided the solution by suggesting that he tag along too.

Kate had been amazed at how well both the men appeared to b coping, and had cleared the psychologically. Her only real concern was that they both seemed unnaturally withdrawn and distant; but since they had both agreed to attend further sessions, she had let the matter rest.

Sheppard was sat in his office, trying to catch up with the requisition forms that were on the verge of eating his desk; but as hard as he tried, he couldn't settle to his task. He was on the verge of tracking down McKay and having a couple of beers with his friend when there was a soft rap at the door.

He had always maintained an 'open door' policy, so he jerked his head up to see who his visitor was.

"Evan," the pilot greeted, giving his 2IC a grin. "What brings you to the land of paperwork and incredibly bored soldiers?"

Lorne stepped into the small office and leant casually against one of the filing cabinets. "Oh, you know, sir, orders from above and all that."

Sheppard quirked up an eyebrow. "And the unofficial reason?"

"Well, sir, me and the rest of the men…" He trailed off, looking uneasy. "We just wanted you to know that… Well, that we understand."

"Understand what, Major?" the pilot asked, leaning back on his chair and swinging his legs up onto the desk. Even one-handed, he made the move look effortless.

Evan tensed, his posture becoming increasingly uncomfortable under his commander's intense gaze. "About what happened, sir," he said eventually. "Dr Weir showed me a copy of your official report and… You did the right thing. We've all been here, sir, in a kill or be killed situation."

Sheppard's feet came back down to the floor with a thunk as he stared at Lorne. For a moment, he looked years younger, like a frightened, vulnerable boy before he managed to school his expression. "Thank you," he croaked. "That… that means a lot to me." Noticing that the man was still hovering, he cleared his throat and added, "Anything else?"

"Yes, sir, there is," Evan said, all trace of his nervousness gone. "Dr Weir has requested that we retrieve the bodies. She wants to send them back home."

"No."

"Sir? I don't…"

"I said no!" Sheppard growled dangerously. "You still understand the meaning of the word, don't you?"

"Yes, Colonel, but I…"

"For the last time, NO!" the pilot snarled. Seeing Lorne's look of surprise at his outburst, Sheppard sighed and forced down his anger. "It's too dangerous," he said after a while. "I'm sorry, Major."

"Sir?"

"There was a cave-in while I was trying to get Rodney out," the Air Force man explained. "Even if I wanted to go back to that cess-pool, there'd be no point. They must be buried under a couple of tonnes of rock or more. I'm not wasting man power or resources to dig out a couple of corpses."

"I understand, sir," Evan replied. "And I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Don't worry about it," Sheppard said, giving his 2IC a smile. "Just… I'd be grateful if you could explain things to Elizabeth for me."

With a nod and a salute, Lorne left. Sheppard looked at the paperwork for all of ten seconds before getting up to track down his geek.

______________________________________________________________

_Thwack!_

Ronon grunted as Teyla's bantos rod smacked him hard on his arm. He circled around, twirling his own sticks as he calculated his next move. Feinting to the left, he moved in the opposite direction, aiming to knock the Athosian's weapons away…

_Thwack!_

Teyla frowned as she pulled the ex runner back to his feet. He shook her off and motioned for her to continue.

_Thwack!_

Once again, he found himself on the floor. The Satedan managed to roll out of the way before a stick came crashing down hard onto the mat, just mere inches from where his head had been. He managed to get a knee under him and was back on his feet in an instant, twirling his own two sticks and pacing around his opponent. He parried the next strike easily, then lunged in for his own attack.

Unfortunately, Teyla had already seen it coming.

Ronon felt his legs buckle from a strike behind his right knee as the Athosian neatly side-stepped him. Trying to roll with it, and keeping a firm grip on his fighting sticks, Teyla easily anticipated his next move. She knocked the sticks from his grip, leaving him on his hands and knees, defenceless and wheezing heavily from a forceful blow to his solar plexus.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"I'm fine, Teyla," Ronon croaked, flopping onto his back for a moment. A hand appeared in front of him and he allowed the Athosian to haul him to his feet. "So, round two?"

She shook her head. "No. You are not in the right frame of mind to continue."

He gave her the 'eyebrow' – one of the moves he'd learnt from Sheppard. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, his tone slightly defensive.

Teyla smiled. "I simply mean that you are… distracted."

"Yeah," he conceded. He grabbed a water bottle and took a long swig before wiping his face with a towel.

"Rodney and John?" the Athosian asked.

Her team-mate nodded. "It's just…" he sighed, frustrated and angry. "There's something not right with them."

Teyla nodded. "I know," she replied, "but we must give them time."

"Why are they avoiding us?" Ronon demanded. "We're meant to be on the same team, after all!"

The Athosian shook her head mutely, unsure of how to respond. Some of her emotions must have shown as the ex runner sighed again.

"Forget it," he said. "I'm just worried I guess."

"They have both been through things we can not even begin to imagine," Teyla reminded him, not unkindly. "They need time to come to terms with what has happened. But I agree that they have been… elusive… of late."

"_Teyla? Ronon?"_

Both jumped as their radios squawked from their gym bags. They crossed the room and quickly retrieved them. "We are here, John," Teyla replied.

"_That's great. Listen Rodney wants to go take a look at one of the old labs in Section F4. He's going a bit stir crazy being cooped up so I figured a walk wouldn't hurt. Do you guys wanna join us?"_

"That would be wonderful," the Athosian said, sharing a smile with Ronon. "We can meet you at Rodney's lab in ten minutes?"

"_Perfect,"_ Sheppard replied. _"See you there."_

______________________________________________________________

"Unscheduled off-world activation!"

Elizabeth hurried over to Chuck. "IDC?"

"No, ma'am," he replied, but was cut off when a rhythmic thumping began. "What the hell?" he breathed.

"It sounds like someone's throwing stones at the shield," Weir muttered.

"It's an SOS!" the technician declared suddenly. "Listen!"

Sure enough, the thumps were coming in a familiar pattern. "What's the address?"

Chuck studied his monitor before looking up with an ashen face. "M8S-393. But that's impossible…"

"Get Lorne's team geared up now," Elizabeth demanded. "And find Colonel Sheppard. I want to know what the hell's going on."

______________________________________________________________

Oo-er! The plot thickens! Stay tuned for some answers, gang…

(Oh, and BTW, reviewing is a GREAT way to pass the time – no that I'm begging or anything…)


	14. Chapter 14

Apologies for the delay in posting – hospital visits and overtime at work aren't exactly inspirational. But enough of that! No more moping, woman! You've a story to write and plot holes to fill in!

Thank you for all the well wishes; I'm still one-handed, but what the hell.

Also, I think that there's some kind of cosmic karma thing going on, seeing as how it's my left wrist that's busted – just like a certain physicist. Hmm… maybe someone's trying to tell me something…

(Rodney chuckles with evil glee as he discovers that his nefarious revenge plot on one of the many authors who enjoys inflicting ridiculous amounts of pain on him has worked perfectly. Little does he know that things will get much, _much _worse for him in this chapter…)

*cue malevolent laughter*

Anyways, you outrageously clever people you, you've all seen through my tricks (or you read the spoiler at the start of the last chapter), so here's what happened back on the planet.

(PS: **JessaLucas** – I'm sorry you weren't happy with the last instalment, but please stick with me! *pouts and does puppy dog eyes, complete with little sniffles* The Atlantis gang aren't intentionally being stupid or idiotically naïve – there's a reason why they've been duped. [And as for a password – that's been explained too.] All will be revealed soon and I promise that it's not just a dodgy plot device! Just to make it up to you, here's some more John whump…)

_______________________________________________________________________

**Chapter 14: Abandonment Issues**

_**Three days earlier, on M8S-393…**_

John awoke with a start, bolting upright and instantly regretting it as the world tilted alarmingly. With a groan, he eased himself back down, breathing heavily through his nose to avoid spilling his stomach contents. As the nausea passed, he tried opening his eyes again and was relieved to find that the room had stopped its physics-defying acrobatics.

_Time for a situation assessment, John…_

Although he was stiff and sore, nothing felt broken and he managed the finger and toe wriggling experiment with minimal pain. His head, however, was another matter entirely; it thumped abysmally, in time with both his heart beat and the throbbing he felt in his right shoulder. He briefly wondered why the joint in question felt damp, but a memory soon surfaced that left him feeling queasy again.

_Got myself shish-kabobbed_, he thought, a slightly hysterical chuckle spilling from his lips. _Carson'll do his nut when he sees me… _He raised his left arm, intending to rub away some of the pain – and find out how bad the damage was – but frowned when his fingers brushed past something next to him. The Air Force man blinked away the residual fuzziness in front of his eyes, only to be met with a sight that made his blood run cold.

Rodney was lying in a crumpled heap next to him, unmoving. With a shaking hand, John held the appendage just in front of his friend's face… and gave a sigh of relief when he felt a small puff of air. He took a moment to assess the Canadian's injuries, but couldn't see well enough with the awkward angle. Knowing that he needed to manoeuvre Rodney into a better position, he scooted around to the side of his friend and braced himself.

John gingerly turned the physicist onto his back – which was not an easy task considering his own wounds – and let out a gasp.

"What the hell did they do to you, buddy?" he asked in a choked whisper. The man in front of him was a mess – a bleeding, bruised bundle that was only just recognisable. His vision began to tunnel, the burst of anger filling his ears with a deafening roar that drowned everything else out. And then a feeling of disgust settled in – disgust that it had been_ his_ twin who had inflicted such harm and suffering…

Taking a moment to regain his equilibrium, John carefully wiped the blood from Rodney's nose and mouth with a handkerchief.

The physicist jerked awake at the gentle ministrations, giving a weak cry of alarm as he saw his team-mate. He tried to push the pilot away, forgetting the broken bones in his wrist as all-out panic took over. _Not again!_ he thought desperately, fear and adrenaline coursing through him, lending him a strength he never thought he had. He writhed under John's grip, lashing out as best he could. Nothing else mattered other than the burning need to get away, to shield himself from more hurt…

It only took John a second to realise what the problem was. ""Easy, Rodney," he said in a quiet, reassuring voice as he managed to gently pin his team-mate in place. The last thing he wanted was for Rodney to hurt himself further – or _him _for that matter. "I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? It's me, John." Over and over he repeated the words, accompanying them with soothing rubs to the frightened man's shoulder in an attempt to reassure and calm him.

Recognition slowly sparked in the scientist's eyes and he let out a small sob. He managed to reach up and grab hold of his friend's arm, clutching the appendage desperately like a frightened child clinging on to a security blanket. Ignoring the pain that lanced through his shoulder, the Air Force man wrapped his fingers around the ones on his bicep and squeezed them gently.

Seeing Rodney in such a state broke the pilot's heart. He hoped to God that the abrasive, sarcastic man he had come to consider his best friend was still in there somewhere, that their copies hadn't completely broken him. Maintaining his grip, John made a silent vow. Once he caught up with their doubles, he was going to make them _pay._

And once he'd done that, he was going to rip them to pieces…

As if he could read his team-mate's mind, Rodney's eyes darted around wildly as if seeking out an invisible threat. "Where…? They… they here?" he whispered brokenly.

"No," John replied. "No, Answer Man, it's just us." Before he could say anything more, the Canadian gave an agonised moan and tried to roll onto his side. "What's wrong?" the soldier asked, not knowing what to do and hating the feeling. "What hurts?"

"B-back," Rodney gasped, still rocking desperately.

The Air Force man quickly rolled his team-mate onto his side, hissing as he caught sight of the root of Rodney's distress. There were three ugly looking burns near the base of his spine; no doubt caused by the pain stick that the Colonel's double had used. "God, Rodney, I'm sorry," John muttered, wincing in sympathy. "I didn't know…"

"'S okay," the physicist replied, panting hard as the pain began to recede. "Better… now…"

John crawled around in front of his friend and rolled up the leg of his pants to reveal a small kit bag secured to his leg. He sent up a silent prayer to the Gods of the Pegasus galaxy that his twin hadn't been too thorough in searching him – if they'd found his kit, the Colonel was sure that he and Rodney would be dead by now.

The Canadian watched his friend, curiosity and confusion battling it out on his face. Eventually, curiosity won. "Whassat?" he asked groggily.

John gave him a beaming gin before leaning in close to share his secret. "The John Sheppard emergency survival kit," he replied. "Never leave home without it." He unzipped the small bag and began rooting through its meagre contents, pulling out a couple of bandages and a small tub of antiseptic spray. Even as he held the tube, he knew that it wouldn't be enough to fix his friend's many ailments, meaning that he'd have to prioritise. He gingerly examined the stab wounds, forcing down a snarl of anger when he saw that they had been cauterised.

"I'm gonna patch these burns up," he told Rodney, knowing that the man would panic if he didn't explain his actions. "Do you know if there's any water around here?"

Rodney nodded weakly. "Over there," he replied, managing to raise a hand to point to the far corner of the cavern. "C-comes from… waterfall."

John unsteadily rose to his feet, grateful that they were next to the wall. He leant against it for a moment, willing his legs to case their imitation of jelly. That achieved, he weaved his way over to the small pool on the far side of the enclosure, stopping twice more. The first was to quash the dizziness that had returned full force, while the second time he grabbed a discarded bucket. Filling the container with the cool liquid, he returned to his companion.

"You don't… look so hot," Rodney said accusingly. "What's wrong with… your shoulder?"

_Busted…_

"It's just a scratch, buddy," the pilot replied in what he hoped was a light tone of voice. "And speaking of appearances, _you're_ not exactly gonna win any beauty awards at the moment." He tore off a strip from the hem of his t-shirt as he spoke, soaking it in the water. "This may sting a little," he warned before gently cleaning the burns.

At the first touch of the damp cloth to his blistered skin, Rodney yelped. Managing to rein it in, he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to keep breathing. "John?" he grunted after a few moments.

"Yeah?" the soldier replied, not stopping in his task.

"T-talk to m-me."

"What about?"

"D-don't care. Jus' talk. Please."

Knowing it was Rodney's way of taking his mind off things, John did as he was asked, telling his friend about the plan he and Zelenka had come up with. That earned him a small chuckle and he continued – omitting his own fears of course. There'd be a time and place for that level of honesty: and personally, John envisioned it involving plenty of alcohol and a sunset on one of the piers back in Atlantis.

"Anyways, the tracker idea wasn't enough for Elizabeth," he continued. "She made me give her a password too."

"W-why?"

"So she could check it was us coming back," John explained patiently. "Evil twins, remember?" He paused to tug the cap from the spray.

"T-think they… got back to… the city?" The question was punctuated by hisses and choked gasps as the Air Force man applied the antiseptic.

"Probably," John admitted after a moment, grumbling under his breath as the spray tin coughed out the last of its contents. "Hence the password." He quickly wrapped the larger bandage around Rodney's back, securing it with a tight knot.

"What d-did you… choose?"

"Huh?" John asked, preoccupied with sticking the other dressing on his shoulder.

"P-password, idiot," Rodney huffed, sounding more like his old self.

"Oh," John replied, grinning sheepishly. "Wraith."

The Canadian groaned. "Not g-gonna be… hard to crack," he said. "Crap."

"Maybe, but the others are smart," his friend insisted. "They'll spot 'em a mile off… What?" he asked, seeing a frown crease Rodney's forehead.

"T-trust…"

John was baffled. "Trust?" he echoed, feeling like a parrot.

"T-they work… f-for the Trust," Rodney clarified.

_Well, shit._

"We're gonna have to get back to the Gate," John said urgently, looking in his kit again. God only knew what gizmos their doubles had… He held out a couple of glucose tablets. "I'm sorry it's not steak, but it's better than nothing," he stated, helping Rodney to sit up.

The scientist accepted the tablets, screwing up his face at the bitter flavour. How the manufacturers had managed to make sugar taste so bad, he would probably never understand. John knew he hated the wretched things, but compared to a hypoglycaemic coma, they were better than nothing. He chased away the aftertaste with a swig of water.

"Think you can stand?" the pilot asked gently.

"Probably not… but I'll try," Rodney replied. "Jus' gimme a minute."

"Good man."

As he braced himself against the agony he knew movement would cause, he asked, "Did you rig the… Jumper?"

Again, the pilot looked sheepish. "Uh, no," he replied in a small voice.

Rodney let out a sigh. "Great," he moaned unhappily. "That means… we've got no… supplies… and we'll… have to walk. Z-Zelenka's on archiving… duties for the… next m-month."

John could have smacked himself for not thinking about it, but there wasn't time to dwell on that now. They had to get back to Atlantis before their copies cold cause any more trouble. "Ready?" he asked, slipping his good arm around Rodney's waist.

"N-not really…"

"That's the spirit. On three. One… two… three…"

The boys swayed and lurched, both of them whimpering and cursing as they clawed their way upwards. After one horrible moment when John thought they were going to crash back down again, they were eventually upright, albeit swaying precariously.

The Air Force man stole a glance at his team-mate, noting the sudden paleness and sheen of sweat. There was no doubt in his mind that Rodney was in a bad way, and the need to get him to Carson weighed heavily on his thoughts.

"We'll head to the entrance and see whether it's dark yet," he said. "There's no way we can travel during the day. Ready?"

Rodney nodded, not trusting himself to open his mouth for fear of puking. After all, he reasoned, it wasn't exactly good manners to throw up on your rescuer.

They began to make their way towards the exit.

_______________________________________________________________________

Two days later, and John was beginning to have serious doubts about his plan.

At first, Rodney had been coherent enough to sustain a conversation, but after the first day they spent in the heat, his energy waned. John had had to force him to drink from the small pond they had rested by and nearly resorted to violence to get the man to accept a glucose tablet. Even worse than the man's uncharacteristic silence was the shocking heat coming from his body.

To begin with, the soldier hoped that it was from the humidity of the rainforest, but when night fell and the temperature plummeted, he knew what was wrong. A quick inspection of the physicist's back confirmed his fears – Rodney was running a fever from an infection. All the Air Force man could do was wash out the burns and get the Canadian upright again.

As they trudged through the foliage, John kept up a steady stream of quiet, nonsensical chatter about everything and anything. It was as much for his benefit as Rodney's.

By the second day, John's voice was hoarse and Rodney was barely conscious, moaning fitfully in his sleep as he battled with the delirium that wracked his body. The pilot had tried unsuccessfully to mend his shattered radio as a quick search had revealed that neither he nor his team-mate had their GDOs. Again the anger surfaced, helping him to forget his own aches and pains.

John shivered, feeling his pulse flutter wildly. He knew he was in the early stages of shock, but until he got them back to the Gate, there was nothing he could do. He managed to trap and kill a small rabbit-like animal, however, and after the grisly process of cleaning and gutting it, cooked it on the small fire he had started. There was no way to know if the creature was poisonous or not, so he scooped the mess into the small plastic bag in his kit for Carson.

After an hour, the meat was done and John's stomach rumbled loudly at the appealing smell. He sliced it up, trying a bit, and was pleasantly surprised to find that it tasted much the same as the Earth version. John managed to wake Rodney enough to get him to swallow a few bites – not nearly enough, but better than the soldier had anticipated. He left the remainder to dry out before stowing it away; after all, he had no idea whether he'd be as lucky catching something again.

By the time the Gate came into sight, John was on the verge of losing it completely. Adrenaline helped him to manoeuvre them to the DHD, where he rested Rodney. The man was so limp and completely unresponsive that for a second, John thought it was too late. Resting a hand on his friend's chest, he let out a shaky sigh as he felt a slight rise and fall.

Rolling flat on his back, the Colonel tried to fight the lump in his throat, blinking furiously against the tears that were threatening to spill from his gritty eyes. He scolded himself, knowing that there wasn't time, and forced his uncooperative body to move back to the DHD.

Gripping the top of the device, he pulled himself upright, grunting at the pain in his shoulder. He dialled Atlantis' address, smiling a little as the wormhole exploded into existence. Knowing that he had no way of contacting the others, he bent down and grabbed a handful of stones, throwing them at the rippling blue event horizon in what he hoped would come across as the Morse code for 'SOS'.

As the Gate shut down, John sank to his knees, tugging Rodney to his chest tightly.

"Hold on, buddy," he whispered hoarsely. "Help's coming."

Time lost all meaning as he waited, seconds and minutes melting together. All he was focused on was the shallow breathing from Rodney and his own heart beat. He didn't register the Gate activating, or the sounds of military issue boots crunching in the gravel.

It wasn't until he heard a P-90 being cocked that he looked up from his fragile charge… and wished that he hadn't.

Major Lorne stood over him, looking down the sight of his gun. "Don't move," he hissed, his finger tightening on the trigger.

_______________________________________________________________________

*Cue dramatic chords* Eeek! What's going to happen now?! Review to find out! ;p


	15. Chapter 15

Mwahahahahaaaah! 100+ REVIEWS!!! I GOT ME MY 1ST FANFIC CENTURY!!! YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST!!! WOOT!!!

*does a happy dance*

X_X

*dies*

Ahem.

So, on we go, folks… and boy, has this chapter been a tough bugger to write! Apologies if John seems a bit OOC, but the poor lad's having a rough time at the moment and I figured he'd be on the verge of cracking rather than showing his usual 'too cool for school' persona.

If anyone asks, it's emotional whump, alright? That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

* * *

**Chapter 15: Can I Have My Life Back Now?**

John Sheppard had found himself at the wrong end of a gun a few times in his life.

He knew how it felt to stare death in the face and have all his mistakes taunt him, to be tormented by all the 'maybes' and 'what ifs'. He knew that those few seconds where a person hovered between living and dying could make a man feel truly alive. In the past, the soldier had embraced those moments, cherished them even, accepting the buzz of fear and adrenaline. He welcomed them like old friends, letting his senses sharpen to the point where everything around him took on a frightening accuracy. It reminded him that he was still human, that life was far too fragile and precious to waste even a second of it.

It felt different this time.

This time, his best friend was lying in his arms, already two thirds of the way to passing.

This time, John didn't have a gun in his hand or backup around the corner, waiting for his signal.

_This time, the person holding the gun wasn't supposed to be an enemy…_

"Major," he croaked, throat burning from his pent up worry for his rapidly deteriorating team-mate. The pilot felt a flash of fear he felt as he looked into the man's eyes and saw nothing but cold fury. "P-please…" He went to hold up a hand imploringly, but thought the better of it when Lorne's stance became aggressive.

"Shut up," Evan barked, not lowering the P-90. He nodded to one of the marines next to him. "Separate them."

Anger flared and John let out a possessive growl as the man approached, tightening his grip on Rodney. "Don't fucking touch him," he hissed, baring his teeth ferally.

The marine backed away slightly, unnerved by the sudden and unexpected hostility. "Sir?" he asked uncertainly, looking to the Major.

"Why did you contact us?" Lorne demanded.

"Rodney needs medical assistance," John replied quietly, the ferocity slipping away again as quickly as it had emerged. Looking and sounding like a madman wasn't exactly going to win over his 2IC. "I'm not even g-gonna try to convince you, Lorne, but it's _us_."

Evan snorted doubtfully, but a couple of his men looked to be having second thoughts. Ramirez, the marine who had tried to move Rodney, shook his head and frowned, as if confused.

"And what makes you think we're gonna help _you_?" the Major asked, sneering viciously. "After all the shit you've pulled, it'd probably be best to put you both out of your misery."

John felt his stomach lurch as he came to the sickening realisation – Lorne clearly had no intention whatsoever of helping him. Too exhausted to care about the audience, he rested his head on Rodney's shoulder and shuddered, feeling a bone-deep cold gnawing away at his insides. Abandoning all pretence of cool, he wept openly, the tears he had tried so hard to force down earlier now flowing freely.

Rodney was going to die on this alien version of hell and it was _his _fault. He'd broken his promise to protect the civilian, to keep him out of harm's way.

_He couldn't save him…_

Evan saw his men shift uncomfortably at the display of raw emotion and heard a small voice in the back of his mind. _They were supposed to have been buried alive, _it taunted. _Sheppard said there was a cave-in, but they don't look like they've been buried under half a mountain…_

"Sir?" Ramirez asked. "What are we gonna do?"

Lorne shook his head mutely, feeling lost as the internal conflict raged.

"I'm s-sorry, buddy," John whispered brokenly to the man slumped in his arms. "I'm sorry…"

The team were all feeling unsure now, not knowing whether the pilot was telling the truth or simply putting on one hell of an act. All they were really certain of was that now they were out of the city, they felt… different somehow. It was as if a veil had suddenly been lifted from in front of them.

"Please," John sobbed, tears cutting through the grime and blood on his face. "You can lock m-me in the brig if you have to. I d-don't care." He clutched his friend's tattered t-shirt, as if he could somehow instil strength in the man from the act. "My name is Lt Col John Sheppard, USAF, military c-commander of Atlantis and l-leader of SGA-1. The man d-dying in my arms is…" His voice cracked audibly and the Air Force man had to swallow a few times before he could complete his sentence. "Is Dr Rodney McKay, Chief of Science, PhD, p-pain in the ass, my best friend and the closest thing I have to a b-brother out here."

No-one dared to interrupt him, all eyes now fixed on the hysterical man in front of them. "You d-don't believe me, but I swear to f-fucking God it's _us!_ I'm b-begging you, L-Lorne. Just get Rodney to Carson. _Please._"

Evan blinked a couple of times, finally lowering his weapon and engaging the safety. He didn't know why, but he trusted the soldier in front of him. He still wasn't convinced, but wasn't about to let another man die because of his own insecurities and doubts. He could always place them under guard…

_And what if these __**are **__our versions? _The voice asked. _What are you gonna do then?_

_But they might not be,_ Lorne argued. _He could be lying…_

_**But what if he's not?**_

_Then just who the hell have I left back in the city?_

After a long moment, he nodded, more to himself than anyone else in particular and called out to Ramirez. "Julio, dial Atlantis and get Beckett and a medical rescue team out here," he said, unclipping his P-90 and removing his tac vest and jacket. "Tell 'em we've got at least one critical patient. They've got five minutes to get their asses in gear."

As the young Sergeant followed the order, Lorne bent down and wrapped his jacket around John's shoulders, noticing for the first time just how badly the Air Force man was shaking.

"Th-thank you," John whispered, burrowing into the warm material.

Evan nodded and got back to his feet, slipping his flak jacket on over his t-shirt. Ordering his remaining men to establish a perimeter, he took a closer look at the two men huddled by the DHD.

Rodney, or the man claiming to be him, was a mess, no doubt about it. The parts of him that weren't covered in blood or obscured by bruises were so pale that they were almost translucent. He was barely breathing, his left wrist swollen and most likely broken. To top it all off, the Major noted the signs of a heavy fever and that John had the physicist propped up carefully on his side.

And speaking of the Colonel…

The pilot looked to be in a better state than his friend, but only just. There was an ugly gash just above his temple, surrounded by a vicious bruise. His right shoulder was sporting a now filthy bandage which was almost sodden with blood, and there was a band of ugly looking contusions around his neck. Judging from the sweat and the way he was shivering, the Major figured he was in shock.

John was oblivious to the scrutiny, all his attention now firmly fixed on Rodney. He gently rocked back and forth, still cradling his team-mate and muttering in the man's ear. "It'll be okay," he was saying. "It'll all be okay. You need to h-hold on a little while longer, alright? Just a b-bit longer…"

The Gate burst into life, startling Lorne out of his thoughts. He looked up just in time to see Carson and a team exit the event horizon, running full pelt. The Scotsman skidded to a halt in a flurry of gravel and muttered curses in Gaelic before paling at the sight in front of him. "Bloody hell," he muttered, stepping closer.

"Careful, doc," Evan warned, catching hold of Beckett's arm and tugging him back. "They say they're our versions, but we don't have anything solid to back it up. Plus, we don't know if they're armed."

The physician shrugged free of Lorne's grip, giving the man a glare that even Rodney in full-on rant mode would've backed down from. "You listen to me, son," he hissed, his blue eyes flashing dangerously. "I don't claim to understand what the hell is going on, but the one thing I _do _know is that the pair of them need immediate medical attention. I don't give a badger's arse if they're friend or foe. I'll not stand around when someone needs my help, even if they've done terrible things."

Lorne gave him a baffled look. These could be the men that had inflicted so much worry and hurt on everyone and Beckett was willing to blithely ignore that fact? "I appreciate that, doc, but…"

"No, Major, no 'buts'," Carson snarled. "They could have a sodding bazooka tucked away for all I care! They're in need of help and I'm not going to waste precious seconds waiting while you damn well _frisk_ them!"

Evan backed away, cowering slightly at the unbridled Scottish wrath that was aimed in his direction.

Seeing that he'd won this particular fight (but not yet convinced if that was a _good _thing), Carson crouched down next to John. "Hello," he said gently, giving the pilot a smile that didn't quite reach the rest of his face.

"H-hey, doc," John replied, looking up at the Scotsman with a wild, terrified stare. "H-help him?" he begged, nodding at Rodney. "Lorne doesn't b-believe me, but it's really us."

The Scotsman's mouth pressed into a thin line as he remembered the video from the conference room. Pushing the image and the anger it triggered to one side, he shook his head. He'd taken an oath to help people, after all, and wasn't about to let his more negative emotions prevent him from doing his job. "Aye, I know," he said, trying his best to keep his voice neutral. "I'm not saying that I'm convinced either, but that does nae mean I'll not help you."

John's heart sank and he looked away, feeling utterly betrayed. He considered the doctor to be a close friend and if he couldn't persuade _Carson_ then what chance did he have with anyone else? How could everyone have been fooled by their doubles? They were both Goddamn _psychopaths_ for crying out loud!

"You need to let go now, son," the Scotsman was saying as he tried to unclamp John's hands, which were holding Rodney in a death grip. "I can nae do anything otherwise." He carefully prised the Air Force man's fingers open, frowning at the tremors rocking the man's wiry frame.

In minutes, he and his team had the Canadian situated on a field stretcher, ready to be moved. Carson was concerned about the pained whimpers coming from Rodney, despite the fact that he was deeply unconscious. Before he could do or say anything, though, John reached out and grabbed his wrist, making the Scotsman jump.

"His b-back, doc," the Colonel croaked, his hazel eyes frantic. "D-don't lay him on h-his back…"

Despite his confusion at the pilot's somewhat cryptic statement, Beckett ordered his team to turn Rodney onto his side.

"He's got real n-nasty burns," John continued, his teeth chattering loudly. "I… I tried to c-clean 'em up, but I d-didn't have enough antiseptic. Had to use w-water, but I don't think it w-was enough. Rodney's g-got an infection, I th-think." He seemed to fold in on himself now that he didn't have the scientist to cling onto. "There was nothing else I could do," he whispered sadly, his eyes never leaving his friend. "I t-tried to keep them clean…"

Carson's brain finally caught up with his ears. "Burns on his back, you say?" he asked sharply, feeling a little sick as the jigsaw neared completion.

John nodded, unsure of the sudden change in the doctor. "Y-yeah, from that Goddamn p-pain stick…" Before he could say any more, Carson was yelling out orders for his team to get Rodney back to Atlantis immediately – and that the OR was to be prepped straight away.

"Doc?" Lorne asked, unsure. "What's going on?"

"We've all been bloody idiots, Major," Beckett replied. "Get back to the city and tell Elizabeth to send out some teams to find Colonel Sheppard and Dr McKay. And let her know that there may be some sort of machine affecting everyone." He growled when the soldier remained rooted to the spot, staring at him in disbelief. "Are ye deaf, man?! Now would be good!"

"Oh my God," Evan mumbled, blanching as the penny dropped with a nasty thud. "I'm so sorry, sir…"

John blinked dazedly at his 2IC, not quite understanding what had prompted the sudden attitude adjustment.

"Save that for later," Carson said, pushing him in the direction of the Gate. Lorne finally took the hint and disappeared after the med team.

"C-Carson?" John called, feeling decidedly lost. He couldn't help the small squeak of surprise that left his lips as the Scotsman knelt down and pulled him into a fierce hug.

"Och, lad, forgive me," the doctor whispered thickly.

"You… you believe me?" the pilot asked, his voice sounding diminutive and vulnerable.

"Aye," Carson replied, "and I'm a complete bampot for not working it all out sooner."

Relief and exhaustion caught up with John in a heady mix, and for the second time that day, he found himself sobbing uncontrollably. He clung to the physician desperately, burying his head in the man's neck as his emotions got the better of him.

Carson held onto him as tightly as he dared, making soft shushing sounds and muttering reassurances. If he was being honest with himself, he struggled to hold back his own tears. Seeing John reduced to this condition made his gut writhe – the Colonel wasn't the crying type, and the Scotsman dreaded to think how bad things must have been for the soldier.

Eventually, the sobs died away, leaving the Air Force man shaking even harder. John looked down at the ground, obviously ashamed by his breakdown and not wanting to see the pity in Carson's eyes. But when the doctor lifted his head up, all the pilot could see in he man's blue eyes was concern and remorse.

"'M c-cold, doc," he whispered, his teeth chattering. "C-can't get warm. W-why's it so d-d-damn cold?"

"Let's have a wee look at you then, son," Beckett said, gently peeling away the bandage from his friend's shoulder. He hissed at the wound, but was glad to see that despite how deep it was, it seemed clean. He was about to re-dress it when John staggered to his feet. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Gotta get b-b-back to Atlantis," John said, swaying wildly. "G-gotta warn Ronon and T-Teyla…" He took a step forward.

Carson caught the pilot as his knees buckled, easing the man back down to the ground. "Steady, John," he said, not liking the way what little colour there was in the Colonel's face had drained. "You're in shock."

"D-don't feel so good, d-doc," John gasped.

Calling out to Ramirez and the other remaining marine, they managed to get the pilot settled onto the second stretcher. "Hold on, son," Carson told his friend. "We'll soon have you feeling better." He nodded to the two soldiers, who picked their CO up and headed for the Gate.

As he followed them, the Scotsman felt a ball of shame and guilt rise up inside him. Why hadn't he realised sooner? He'd had his suspicions – the other Rodney's wounds, the way that the man he'd thought was Sheppard had been moodier and more withdrawn than usual – so how could he have been so easily mislead?

_How could I have been such a bloody fool?_

Once this fiasco was over, he'd have a lot of ground to make up.

Everyone would.

Shaking his head, he stepped through the event horizon, hoping that their naivety hadn't gotten his two best friends killed.

* * *

Hooray! The boys have been saved! Hmmm…. How did the evil twins manage to fool everyone? Will our John and Rodney be okay?

Right, time to find out what's going on back in the city, I think.

Uh-oh – I left Teyla and Ronon with the evil!boys! O.o If you want to know what's gonna happen next, leave me a review!


	16. Chapter 16

First of all, many, many apologies for the late posting. The new Dr Who special was on TV the other week and I got over-excited at the prospect of seeing the ever lovely (and utterly gorgeous) David Tennant running around.

*falls off chair with squee overload*

Plus, I've been playing catch-up with NCIS series 7 and NCIS Los Angeles – and can I just say that I've got the biggest geek crush _ever_ on Nate? Yummy…

God, I love my Sky+ box…

And now, some messages from our sponsors…

**Kai: **Woo! Really glad you're enjoying this! And don't panic – all will soon be revealed, my dear…

**Shadows-of-Realm: **Ta very much! As for the realisation part, Carson's a bright lad, you know. But there's a bit more to it than that…

**Se-chan:** Aw, shucks. *blushes* I dunno what to say! Thank you. ;p

**Puddle-Jumper38:** Welcome to the party! Damn those pesky bunnies (although personally, I blame my militant blue badgers. They do love a bit of Rodney!Whump…)

**angw: **Evil cliffies are my specialty. *grins*

**Felicity:** Hi there! Thanks for the encouragement!

**Elisa:** Woo-hoo! *does happy dance* I'm typing as fast as I can, honest!

**Varda:** Yeah, I _hate _gaping plot holes… *looks around shiftily, hoping that no one looks too closely at some of her other stories* Tee-hee. And I thought that the OOC element was John's bad language – he's normally such a _nice_ boy…

**Geeksandlies: **Thank you!

**Anna:** John seriously rocks, Evan's a very naughty boy, and I'm far too excited for my own good after reading your lovely review! *sends you a virtual!Lorne to discipline*

**Black Koneko Ribbon Princess: **I like wrecking my two favourite boys. ^_^ Glad you're still enjoying it!

**-1993: **Hello! Come on in and join the mayhem! Thank you for your lovely words. As for the device, all is about to be revealed…

**Shadow Chaser: **Ask and you shall receive! I fully intend on doing Round 2 (and have done for a while, actually), so watch this space…

Right, gushiness well and truly over. Time to kick arse and take names. Or should that be the other way around? No matter! Onwards, gang!

* * *

**Chapter 16: Realising the Truth**

"You have _got_ to be kidding me."

Elizabeth couldn't believe her ears. She was stood next to Lorne, who in turn was stood by the Gate. The soldier was holding his arm in the event horizon, keeping the wormhole active for Carson and his remaining men to return to the city.

"No, ma'am," he replied, shaking his head sadly. He had just briefed the expedition leader on the discovery he'd made back on the planet and the orders that had come from their Chief Medical Officer. "Believe me, I had a hard time to begin with myself, but it's all starting to make sense now."

"I wish I could say the same, Major," Elizabeth said, watching as the med team swiftly transferred Rodney into a gurney. "Are you certain it's really them?"

"Personally, Dr Weir, I don't know _what_ to think any more, but the doc was convinced." Evan offered up a small smile as the team raced away to the infirmary with their patient. "If Carson says so then that's good enough for me."

"And speaking of our good doctor…"

They both turned in time to see Beckett emerge with the two lingering marines – and a barely conscious John Sheppard on a second stretcher.

"Right, lads, get him to the infirmary as quick as you can," the Scotsman told them. "Let Dr Cole know that I'll be there as soon as I'm done here, and have her get Dr Morrison started with Rodney." He waited until they'd left before turning to Lorne and Elizabeth. "Thanks for holding the door open, son," he said, motioning for Evan to drop his arm. "We're all present and accounted for."

Elizabeth waited until the Gate had shut down before glaring pointedly at the doctor. "Carson?" she asked. "Would you like to explain what the hell is going on?"

Beckett met her gaze defiantly, tilting his chin in a gentle parody of Rodney's usual mannerism. "Have you ordered that search I requested?" he asked.

"No."

"Then I suggest you do so right now, pet," Carson replied, his tone of voice brokering no argument.

They stared at each other for a moment longer before the dark haired woman nodded and turned to Lorne. "You heard the man, Major," she said.

Evan saluted before jogging out of the Gateroom towards the armoury, taking his team with him.

"So, are you going to enlighten me?"

Beckett relaxed his stance slightly, motioning for her to walk with him. As they made their way out of the Gateroom, he let out a low sigh and began to talk. He told her about the sight that had met him on the planet, about how the rest of the team had seemed confused and disorientated… and about his own chilling realisation. As Elizabeth listened to the physician's explanation, she felt a sick feeling slowly creep into her stomach.

"As soon as John mentioned those bloody burns on Rodney's back, I knew," Carson hissed angrily. "It was like someone had opened up a floodgate in my head and everything fell into place. I bloody _knew_ the whole time and I did _nothing!_ I even helped the bastards!"

Weir reached out and gripped his shoulder, trying to calm him. "If what you've told me is true, we're _all_ responsible," she said. "What I don't understand is how they managed to trick us."

Beckett frowned. "I'm thinking it's a machine or device, maybe," he replied. When he saw the expedition leader scowl, he added, "It's all I can think of, love. I should've realised from the moment I saw the man claiming to be our McKay. He did nae have the burns from that wretched pain stick, his arm had no pins and his other wounds looked too fresh. But despite all that, something made me ignore my initial instincts." He shook his head. "It felt like someone had put a pair of rose-tinted glasses on me. Once I got off-world, everything was clearer somehow. That's when I realised that something back here was out of kilter."

"It could be a drug of some kind," Elizabeth said darkly, shuddering at the thought.

"I don't think so," Carson replied. "For a start, there was bugger all time for them to disperse it, and the city's sensors would have alerted us if someone had been tampering with the water supply."

"Who says it's in the water? Remember Lucius?"

The doctor pulled a disgusted face. "I'd rather not, thank you."

"Me neither, but my point is that a drug is a valid option," she insisted. "They could have ingested it, like…" she trailed off, shrugging her shoulders. "Well, like you know who."

Beckett nodded reluctantly. "Aye, you've a point, but again, they had no _time_. They were under observation for two days! And to top it all off, none of us who went off-world are suffering any sort of withdrawal symptoms…" He stopped suddenly, giving her an odd look. "Did you ask for the password when they got back?"

Elizabeth thought for a moment before she swallowed heavily, shaking her head. "No, no I didn't," she whispered. "I… I was going to, but… I don't know how to explain…"

"It was like you didn't need to," the Scotsman said softly.

She nodded, aware of the shame burning a path across her cheeks. "It was almost as if I was already convinced that it was _our_ John Sheppard."

"We'll fix this, lass," Carson said, with a confidence he didn't feel. "I don't know _how_, but we'll fix it. Look, I need to get to my infirmary. Can you track down Ronon and Teyla for me? John was worried about them."

Elizabeth gave him a weak smile, her hand already at her radio. "Not a problem, Carson," she replied, watching as he nodded and ran down the hall. "Not a problem at all."

* * *

Meanwhile, in the depths of the city, Ronon Dex was troubled.

He and Teyla were on their way to the lab that McKay wanted to explore – they'd found a set of directions, along with a hastily scrawled note from Sheppard explaining that the scientist had been too excited to wait.

The ex-runner didn't like it. The note had been friendly enough, and he knew how hot-headed the Canadian could get, but still… The Colonel _always_ made Rodney wait, especially when one or both of them were healing.

And he didn't normally leave notes – that was more McKay's thing.

"You seem troubled," the Athosian said, making him jump.

"One day, I'll find out how you do that. Read people's minds," he added softly when he saw her puzzlement.

She laughed, the sound seeming to cut through the oppressive gloom of the corridor. "I believe Elizabeth once referred to it as 'female intuition'," she replied. "And that is something I fear you will never learn."

Ronon grinned for a moment before his thoughts turned inward again. He let out a shudder. He hated it down here – there were no windows, and with no sources of natural light, it creeped him out. The Satedan didn't suffer from claustrophobia as such, but being in the bowels of the city made him spare a thought for Rodney. He was beginning to understand why the little man got so freaked out in small spaces.

And while on the subject of McKay…

"I still think something's wrong," he growled. "The more I try to think about things, the more confused I get."

"I am not certain I understand," Teyla admitted after a moment.

"It's like my head's not working straight," Ronon continued, his hands waving about aimlessly as he tried to find the right words to explain. "Like it's stuffed with Moija seeds or something."

"Moija seeds?" she asked, tilting her head. "I have not come across those before. Are they native to Sateda?"

He nodded, smiling sadly. "We used to collect 'em when I was a child. Me and my mother used to sew them into small leather pouches then go to the lakes." He shrugged, trying to be gruff. "When you add water to them, the seeds swell up and become fluffy. We used to use the pouches when we were very small children, when we were taught how to swim."

Teyla grasped his hand, unable to bear her friend sounding so forlorn.

Ronon shook her off gently, his demeanour shifting back quickly as he tried to get back to the subject at hand. "Anyway, that's what it feels like. There's something going on, I know it."

"As Dr Beckett often says, we will cross that bridge when we come to it," the Athosian answered, resuming the walk. "In the meantime, we will find our missing team-mates." She gave him a grin that, for a moment, bordered on scheming. "And once we have found them, I plan on having a talk."

They continued down the corridor.

* * *

John gazed up at the ceiling of the infirmary, trying his hardest not to flinch as he felt the needle slipping in and out of his skin. A quick blood transfusion and a saline drip had helped him feel more human, but all he was really concerned with was finding Teyla and Ronon before his twin got them. No one had been able to raise them on the radio, and it troubled him. He knew that they were more than capable of looking after themselves, but when it came to their doubles, he didn't want to leave anything to chance.

And deep in the base of his gut, the worry for Rodney churned about, swelling and crashing like the waves he used to surf back on Earth. A couple of hours had passed since they'd returned to the city and he'd heard nothing. His friend had been whisked away, Carson following close behind, and he'd been left to wait – with nothing but his own dark thoughts to keep him company.

_No news is good news, John, _he told himself firmly. _Rodney's a fighter. He'll pull through this. _

_He __**has **__to…_

The soldier's mind was so far away that he failed to notice that the nurse had finished the stitching. It wasn't until a hand came to rest on his good shoulder that he snapped back to the present, his eyes darting up to meet Carson's. For a split second, he hesitated, dreading the answer to his unasked question.

"He's holding in there, son," the Scotsman said. "He's nowhere near out of the woods yet, but he's fighting."

"Good," John replied, his voice sounding hollow and oddly emotionless even to his own ears.

Carson observed him critically. "And how about you?" he asked, not liking how pale and cold his friend seemed.

"Fine, doc. I'm fine."

"Aye, of course y'are, Colonel. And I'm an Irishman."

"Are you done talking down to me?" the Air Force man asked, his tone still flat and lifeless. "I need to be discharged so I can help track down my evil double."

The doctor sighed, letting his hand fall away. He'd seen this behaviour once before, when Rodney was in a bad way. John's defence mechanism was total detachment from the situation – he would shut down every emotion and basically run on autopilot. In public, he would seem cold, ruthless even, the perfect soldier. But when he'd completed his 'mission'… well, that was another matter entirely.

Carson wasn't happy with the hasty patch-up job done on the pilot's shoulder, but with Rodney still critical in the OR, he didn't have much of a choice. And besides, John would be out of there with or without his permission…

John took the silence as a 'yes', and was out of bed and tugging his shirt back on in a matter of seconds. As he was fiddling with his boots, Lorne entered the infirmary, a grim look on his face.

"Sir."

"Major," John replied, not looking up. Although he didn't blame Lorne for holding a gun to his head, he couldn't stop the spark of betrayal he felt. "Any luck?"

"No, sir, but Dr Zelenka thinks he might be able to track them down using the bio-metric sensors. He's trying to narrow down the search parameters as we speak."

"Good." John turned to Carson. "Well, doc?"

Beckett grimaced, but nodded. "Off you go, lad," he replied. "But you be careful, you hear? I want you to watch his back, Major."

"No problem, doc," Evan said, desperate to make up for earlier.

"Dr Beckett!"

All three men turned at the shout to see Marie hovering anxiously. "Yes, pet?" Carson asked.

"Dr Morrison needs you back in theatre now," she replied. "Dr McKay's crashing."

"Excuse me, gents," the physician muttered as he raced back.

John stood staring at the doors to the OR in shock. This wasn't happening. Rodney couldn't be dying! It was against the rules! Carson had _promised_ him that the Canadian would be alright. You weren't allowed to promise if it was a lie, everyone knew that.

_This wasn't happening…_

"Colonel Sheppard?"

John blinked and looked over to Lorne, trying to pull on a confident expression. "C'mon, Evan. Let's go find the rest of my team."

As they left the infirmary, the pilot's eyes never left the spot he'd been staring at.

* * *

"It's about time you got here."

Teyla and Ronon wheeled around as the greeting caught them off-guard. Sheppard was slouched in the doorway next to them, leaning against the wall. Although he gave the outward impression of being relaxed, there was a small glint in his eyes that suggested otherwise.

Ronon noticed the way his hands were clenched and for a split second, he considered drawing his blaster. Only a look from Teyla stopped him, making him think back to an earlier conversation…

…"_Give me five minutes with him and I'll get to the bottom of this," Ronon said as he idly swung and twirled his gun around. The two of them had been walking through the myriad of corridors for what felt like hours and the ex-runner was starting to get impatient._

"_You know very well that is not the way we do things," Teyla scolded, looking down at their directions before turning left at a fork in the hallway. She frowned pointedly at her team-mate until he put his blaster away. "If you are that concerned, why not radio for assistance?"_

_He motioned to his headset. "It's not working," he replied. "And besides, I'm not gonna __**hurt **__him. Sheppard's big enough to deal with me. I was just gonna have a talk with him, man to man." Seeing that his team-mate still wasn't convinced, he stopped and grabbed her arm, pulling her around to face him. "Look, just… just stop and__** listen**__ to me. You know as well as I do that there's something weird going on around here. I say we find Sheppard and McKay and drag 'em back to Beckett, let him take another look. Maybe the others did something to them, brainwashed them somehow."_

"_Ronon…"_

"_I'm serious, Teyla! I was a runner for seven years. When you've got no one to turn to and no one to trust, you learn to listen to other things. You learn to rely on your instincts otherwise you're dead. I'm telling you that there's something __**wrong**__ and I don't like it." He raised his hands to cut off her next protest. "I know we've had this conversation before, but just hear me out, okay? Can't you feel it? Everyone's been different the last couple of days, not just Sheppard and McKay. It's like we're being… influenced or something."_

_Teyla sighed and looked up at the Satedan. "I understand your concerns, Ronon, but I think you may be over-reacting…"_

"_Dammit, woman!" the ex-runner growled, thumping the wall. "Why can't you see it? The men who came back through the Gate are different! Don't ask me how or why, just humour me. Just pretend for a minute that you believe me."_

_The Athosian shook her head in exasperation, but did as she was asked. She thought about her team-mate's words, letting her mind drift back to the past few days. Everyone had seemed subdued, that much she agreed with, and their team-mates __**had**__ been scarce…_

"_Alright," she said eventually, motioning for them to start walking again. "You have a point, but we will do things __**my**__ way or not at all, understood? We must give John and Rodney a chance to explain their actions of late."_

_Ronon grunted and nodded reluctantly. It wasn't quite the reaction he'd been hoping for, but it was close enough for the time being…_

…A cough from Sheppard brought Ronon back to the present with a bump. He blinked a couple of times, trying to refocus his vision. He felt oddly light-headed, but put it down to the closeness of the corridor.

The Air Force man gave them an odd little grin before straightening up. "Well? What're you waiting for, guys? C'mon already. Rodney's found something cool for us to play with."

Sharing a glance, they followed the Colonel into the darkened room. Even with his excellent night vision, the Satedan struggled to make out anything in the pitch black, growling as he bumped into what felt like a table. "Lights would be nice," he grumbled, rubbing at his sore leg.

"All in good time, buddy," Sheppard replied from somewhere to his left. "You don't wanna spoil the surprise now, do you?"

"John, where is Rodney?" Teyla asked, cursing under her breath as she too bumped into an unknown object.

"I'm right here," McKay replied, his voice echoing in the gloom.

"What say we put 'em out of their misery?" the pilot suggested.

Before either of them could react, a blinding light filled the room, followed by an ear piercingly shrill tone. Ronon and Teyla let out pained yells as they clutched at their ears, trying in vain to block out the sound. As they slumped to the ground, Ronon caught sight of McKay holding a small object in his hand, his crooked smile twisted darkly.

"Surprise," Sheppard whispered before their world crumbled away into blackness.

* * *

Hmm… the plot thickens… And look – another cliffy! What can I say? I like keeping you on your toes. *grins darkly* Smack down number two coming up… really soon!


	17. Chapter 17

Ha, ha! I'm back! Did ya miss me?

RL has been an absolute ______ (insert expletive of choice here) and I humbly beg for patience and forgiveness. The dreaded Pneumonia returned with a vengeance and I only got released from my ridiculously long hospital stay last week.

Christmas in hospital was really crappy too :( but I got Season Four of Doctor Who so I had David Tennant to keep me company.

On the bright side, I've managed to write a much, much longer chapter for y'all whilst recuperating at home – and being snowed in helped a bit too. ;D

But first…

**Shadows-of-Realm:** Woo-hoo!

**Varda:** Guess you'll have to wait and see! ;D

**Shadow Chaser:** I tend to have that effect on people….

**Se-chan:** Great minds think alike. At least, that's what I've been told…

**Puddle-Jumper38:** John certainly has a knack for last minute heroics… watch this space!

**angw:** Hope you'll like this then!

**Elisa:** I'm a wicked girl, but cliffies are too much fun to pass up!

**Geeksandlies:** Everyone who reviews gets a mention! No maiming the badgers, though – they bite.

**Black Koneko Ribbon Princess:** NINJA MUSES!!! Lol. Now there's a fight I'd like to see – your ninjas Vs my badgers. Bets, anyone?

**Iamkagomeiloveinuyasha:** Don't worry, I'll fix 'em all… eventually. *grins*

**Lanhar:** Hello! There may well be a twist in the evil!boys friendship, but you're gonna have to wait and see…

**LeonaMasha:** Wotcha! Welcome to the dark side! And thanks for adding me to your faves!

And lastly, this chapter is dedicated to **Shadow Chaser**, who wanted (and I quote) 'a big brawl'. Hope this is what you were thinking of, tiger! Rock on!

* * *

**Chapter 17: Confrontation**

Somewhere deep in the bowels of Atlantis, not far from the heart of the Ancient city, John and his search team were lost in a complex labyrinth of seemingly endless corridors. It felt like being trapped in a giant rabbit den, the sensation not helped by the gloom or the musty smelling air. Despite his discomfort, the Air Force man pressed on, galvanised and intent on finding his missing friends.

After almost two hours of searching, the group had finally caught the break that they'd been so desperate for. As they had headed towards the Science Department's central hub, they had run into a couple of marine biologists, who had been surprised to see Sheppard. When the pilot questioned them, they explained that Teyla and Ronon had passed them on their way to one of the abandoned labs in sector F4, and, more specifically, were apparently meant to meet up with John and Rodney. After confirming their statements with Radek, the team had set off once again, feeling much more hopeful.

Secretly, John marvelled at Zelenka's inventiveness. The wily Czech had not only managed to recalibrate the biometric-sensors and send the live feed directly to the Colonel's LSD, but he had also succeeded in rigging together a small, portable booster pack for their radios. It was a well-known fact that radio frequencies were often disrupted by the shielding in the deeper parts of the city – something that Rodney had pointed out to Sheppard on numerous occasions – and with a couple of violent sociopaths on the loose, John was willing to grab any advantage he could get.

John's stomach lurched at the thought of the physicist – there had still been no news from Carson. Normally, the wild-haired soldier was a 'glass half full' kind of person, but he was beginning to wonder if he should simply face facts and brace himself for the worst.

_Oh, that's nice, Sheppard, _his internal McKay sneered sarcastically. _Loving the optimism and 'never say die' attitude there. Kick a man when he's down, why don't you?_

"Colonel Sheppard?"

John pulled himself back into focus, looking across at his 2IC. "Yeah, Lorne?" he asked, his voice hoarse and weary.

Evan looked uncomfortable, fiddling distractedly with the clip that held his P-90 to his flak jacket. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about what happened back on M8S-393," he said eventually.

Sheppard groaned inwardly, feeling a surge of anger. He let out a frustrated sigh – he really didn't want to have this conversation right now. As well as the fact that Teyla and Ronon were still missing, the Air Force man wasn't exactly in an overly forgiving mood. A small voice at the back of his mind told him he was being a jerk, but he tuned it out.

He forced his clenched hands to ease up their white-knuckled grip on his own weapon, taking a moment to plan his next words cautiously. "Major… just save it," he eventually replied, being careful to keep his tone as neutral as possible. "All I'm interested in at the moment is finding my team."

_And besides, I can't handle __**your **__guilt-trip on top off my own… _

But Lorne wasn't to be deterred. "Sir, please listen to me. I'm trying to apologise here!" He hesitated for a moment, before adding, "You would've done the same if our roles were reversed."

Sheppard stopped abruptly, wheeling around to face Evan – who visibly shrank away. The expression on John's normally boyishly handsome face was unrecognisable and for a moment, Lorne was convinced he was about to get smacked in the teeth… or worse.

"I _said _shut it," the Air Force man hissed dangerously. "That subject is off limits until I tell you otherwise. Is that understood, people?" He glowered at all of his men, raising his eyebrows expectantly. There were a couple of murmured replies of 'yes, sir', some nods and even a squeak of surprise from somebody. Satisfied, John span back round and resumed walking. "Good. Let's go."

The others all shared worried looks. Most of them had served under the normally laid-back young officer for a couple of years and were taken aback by the sudden change in attitude. The one thing that was crystal clear was that John Sheppard was a dangerous man to be around when the lives of his team-mates were in jeopardy.

Evan swallowed heavily and jogged a couple of steps to catch up with his commanding officer. Wisely choosing to change the subject, he cleared his throat. "Do you have any theories about the device, sir?"

The Air Force man grimaced. He'd spoken to Elizabeth before setting off on his search, and the dark haired woman had filled him in on Beckett's theory. Or at least, she did once she'd stopped trying to apologise every five minutes. As far as John reckoned, the hidden machine theory held weight. "The way I see it, it's gotta be something small, easy to conceal and portable," he replied eventually. "And depending on the range this thing may or may not have, it's probably easily accessible too."

"That makes sense," Lorne mused, nodding slightly, "but there's still one thing bothering me. If it is a device, how come we haven't detected it?"

Sheppard frowned. "Maybe because you had no reason to," he said. "After all, you thought we were back. Why would you scan for unusual technology?"

Although he fought hard to keep the bitterness from his voice, he wasn't entirely successful; the question came out with more heat and sarcasm than he'd anticipated. Wincing, he offered up a small grin by way of an apology before a thought struck him. He raised a hand and tapped his headset. "Z?"

"_Yes, Colonel?"_

"Can you do me a favour? I want you to run a sweep for me, see if anything unusual pops up." He held up a hand to silence Evan, who was about to ask a question.

"_Right away,"_ the engineer replied, his tone curious_. "But first, I must know one thing – what exactly am I to look for?" _

John shrugged his shoulders, more out of habit than anything else, and had to swallow a moan as the movement jarred his injury. "I'm not sure yet, doc," he said through slightly gritted teeth, "but you'll know it when you see it."

"_Very well. And while you are on radio, remember that the booster pack only has limited life span…"_

"Yeah, yeah, I know, save it for emergencies," the pilot cut in quickly. "Just call me the minute you've got something, okay?"

"_Of course. Zelenka out."_

John looked down at his LSD, noting with a mixture of relief and worry that the two dots Radek had identified as being Teyla and Ronon's bio-signatures were still strong. The worrying part was that neither of them had moved at all since the engineer had downloaded the signal. Double-checking their location, he waved a hand, motioning for the team to carry on down the hallway.

* * *

It is often said that when a person is unconscious, the last sense to go and the first to return is hearing. Coma patients frequently report that they have heard the voices of loved ones keeping vigil at their bedsides, a phenomenon that most medical professionals tend to agree with.

Ronon may not have been in a coma, but his ears pricked as he slowly fought his way back to consciousness. There were footsteps nearby – two sets from what he could gather, and judging by the speed, the owners were pacing anxiously. For a few moments, the Satedan wondered if he was in the infirmary: if the pounding in his skull was anything to go by, the answer was probably a resounding 'yes'.

Nausea forced the big man to keep his eyes shut, however, and he breathed heavily through his nose, unwilling to risk opening his mouth. As he lay still, he caught the sounds of what appeared to be an argument – heated words, whispered curses – and realised two very important things.

One – he was _not_ in the infirmary. Although most of the expedition members joked about how hard and uncomfortable the mattresses were, they were a damn sight more comfortable than the floor. Ronon was pretty sure that was where he was: the chill coming from beneath him and the lack of either a pillow or a blanket leant weight to the theory.

It also led him onto his next point: two, he was in _big_ trouble.

He gingerly cracked open his eyes a fraction, clenching his jaw as the lights aggravated his headache. After a minute, the pain receded, allowing his eyes to focus. He was indeed on the floor, with Teyla lying just to his side and, from the looks of it, still deeply unconscious. He then caught sight of a military issued boot and the memories flooded back in a crashing wave.

Resisting the urge to growl, he continued to play possum as he bided his time, waiting for the right moment to strike. His muscles tensed almost imperceptibly as he braced himself…

_Thunk, thunk, thunk, turn, thunk, thunk, thunk…_

_Wait for it,_ he told himself. _Wait for it…_

_Thunk, thunk, thu-_

Quick as a flash, he leapt up and grabbed his unsuspecting victim, shoving one arm around the man's throat in a choke hold. With his other arm, he grabbed his captive's wrist, twisting it savagely behind his back, eliciting a cry of pain. He heard a snarl of anger to his left and spun his head around to see Sheppard glowering at him, his hazel eyes smouldering with hatred.

"Let him go," the pilot said, walking closer.

Ronon re-doubled his grip, twisting McKay's head to the side. "Stay there!" he growled, backing away slightly. "Don't make me hurt him." He applied more pressure, resulting in a choked whimper from the man in his arms.

"Go ahead," Sheppard replied, shrugging his shoulders casually. "See if I care."

The ex-runner's head swam as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing. How could John say something like that? It was common knowledge that despite their often playfully argumentative relationship, the Colonel viewed Rodney as a younger brother. "Look," he croaked, forcing his voice to start working again. "I don't know what's going on here, but you need help. Let's just go and see Beckett, okay?"

Sheppard gazed at the ceiling, making a show of thinking about the Satedan's offer. "Uh… no. Here's the way the game's played – you're gonna put him down."

"Can't do that, Sheppard." Ronon tried hard not to flinch as McKay started to go limp in his arms.

The Colonel reached behind his back, pulling out Dex's blaster. In a single, effortless move, he switched the setting to 'kill' and levelled the weapon at Teyla's head. "Bad dog," he scolded. "I'll make it even simpler for you. If you don't let him go, I'll blow her pretty little head off – which, I have to admit, would be a shame. I don't like leaving a mess." He cocked the gun and fired a blast at the floor, leaving a scorched hole, smoke curling upwards. "Next shot's through her skull," he snarled, his voice hard and cold.

Realising that the Air Force man wasn't joking, Ronon reluctantly let the scientist go, holding up his hands in submission.

McKay coughed and spluttered, rubbing at his neck as he dragged himself to his feet. "Bastard," he hissed at Sheppard.

"Ah, hell, Rodney. I knew he wasn't gonna kill you," the soldier replied, trying to sooth his friend. "Have a little faith, would you?"

"Yeah, well don't bluff so convincingly next time," the Canadian shot back.

Ronon's eyes flitted between them, a sense of horror rising. He shook his head as the pieces slotted into place, staggering backwards until he hit the wall. His legs turned to rubber and, unable to support himself any longer, he sank down to the ground, landing with a thump. "No," he whispered. "No, it's not possible…"

"Looks like Rover's not so dumb after all," McKay said with a chuckle. "Finally figured it out, have you?"

"Where are they?" the Satedan demanded suddenly. "Where are _my _Sheppard and McKay? If you've hurt them…"

"You'll what?" Sheppard sneered. "If you know what's good for you and your friend here, you'll do exactly as we say." As he spoke, he raised the hand holding the ex-runner's weapon, tilting it in warning.

Ronon frowned as he caught sight of a gleaming band of metal on the pilot's right hand. "What's that?" he asked, trying to stall for time.

John's copy grinned as he followed Dex's eye line. "Cool, isn't it?" he asked excitedly. "They even come in pairs…" he trailed off, looking over to his team-mate. Sure enough, Rodney's double had one too, a ring that appeared to be silver.

"What are they?" the ex-runner asked again.

"An Ancient experiment," McKay said, his blue eyes lighting up. "Originally, they were meant to be a weapon against the Wraith."

Ronon snorted doubtfully at that, but the scientist continued, warming to the subject.

"You see, these rings allow the wearers to manipulate the minds of those around them, just a tiny bit. They let us alter everyone's perception just enough to make them more…" He paused for a moment, looking for the right word before settling on, "_Suggestible._ It's not exactly mind control, more like making a proposal that nobody can refuse."

"Let me guess," the ex-runner interjected, "it didn't work out so well for the Ancients?"

"Correct," Sheppard replied. "Something to do with those pesky psychic abilities the Wraith have. Works great on humans, though, so their loss is our gain." He grinned humourlessly. "Guess you can't shit a shitter, huh?"

"If that's the case, then why wasn't Teyla completely immune?" Ronon asked, casting a worried eye over his team-mate. He saw her chest rise and fall, though, so allowed himself a small sigh of relief.

McKay rolled his eyes testily. "I assume she's got Wraith DNA?" he asked. Seeing the Satedan's nod, he spread his arm's wide, like a magician presenting his next trick. "Simple. Her Wraith gene isn't strong enough to block the signal."

"In fact, you two were the only people who got suspicious," Sheppard continued. "You were the only ones we couldn't fool completely. Neither of you realised it at the time, but your subconscious minds were working overtime trying to get you to join the dots."

Ronon was about to ask why _he_ was so special, when the answer struck him. He'd been a Runner for seven years, and spent all that time with a Wraith tracker embedded in his spine. If that didn't make him immune, he didn't know what would.

"Unfortunately, that makes both of you a threat," Rodney's double continued, seeming to read the Satedan's mind. "You see, once a person realises, the illusion's shattered."

"Meaning you can't trick 'em again," Dex growled, his anger growing as he saw the physicist's smug grin.

"Dammit!"

Both he and McKay turned to look at John's double, who was staring at a stolen LSD.

"What's the matter, friend?" Ronon asked sarcastically. "Gonna get caught?"

Sheppard turned the device around to show his team-mate – there were seven dots, which were two corridors down from them and closing in, fast.

"Guess its Plan B then," the Air Force man said, excitement colouring his voice. "Are you gonna co-operate, buddy? Or do I have to get violent?" He raised the Satedan's blaster and tilted his head to the side.

Not wanting to get Teyla caught up in the middle of a fight, Ronon bit his tongue and got to his feet, moving across to the Athosian. Bending down, he gently picked the young woman up, carrying her out of the lab and down the hallway at a nod from John's copy. All the while, he was mindful of the gun muzzle in his back, the unspoken threat as clear as day.

The Canadian nodded and Sheppard pushed Ronon into another room. "Just a word of caution, big man," he said. "Make a sound and I'll kill every last one of these people." He pointed at the LSD. "You wouldn't want that on your conscience now, would you?" He swiped a hand across the sensor.

Just before the doors closed, Ronon caught sight of McKay tinkering with a wall panel. As he laid Teyla on the floor, his gut told him that things were only going to get worse.

* * *

Ten minutes later, John and his search team rounded a corner into the very same corridor, unaware of the events that had taken place not long ago. The pilot's eyes were fixed on his Ancient doohickey, but he was so engrossed in his thoughts that his brain failed to register what his eyes were telling him.

As they approached the room that, unbeknownst to them, held Teyla and Ronon, the LSD popped and fizzed, spewing out acrid black smoke as it died a painful death. Cursing, the soldier stowed it away in his vest.

"Sir?" Lorne called, not liking the way the machine had suddenly expired.

"Easy, Major," John replied softly. "I remember which room they were in, okay? It's just up ahead. Radio Zelenka for an update while I check it out." Without waiting for a reply, he stepped forward.

Normally, nothing would have happened, but this time, there was a surprise waiting for the Air Force man. Inadvertently, his boot activated an invisible laser tripwire...

"Look out, Colonel!"

Suddenly, there was a screech of metal as a slot in the ceiling opened, allowing a partition to come crashing down. Hearing Evan's panicked shout, John lunged forward, rolling to his knees just in time to see the wall of metal slam to the ground. He hunched forward for a moment, trying to catch his breath and calm his wildly thumping heart. That had been far too close for comfort…

Once the buzzing in his ears subsided, the Air Force man scrambled upright, tapping his headset. He winced at the earful of static he received. _That went well,_ his inner Rodney commented. _And for your next display of utter idiocy?_

"Can it, genius," John muttered, moving closer to the new wall. Cautiously, he reached out a hand, half expecting to get a zap for his troubles. When nothing happened, he banged on the metal, thinking _off, up, retract, open sesame_ and half a dozen other mental commands.

Unsurprisingly, none of them worked.

He did receive an answering knock from Lorne, though, which was promising. "Everyone okay back there?" he called.

"_We're all fine, sir,"_ came the muffled reply_. "What about you?"_

"I'm good," the soldier shouted back. "Get on the radio to Z; tell him to get this thing shifted. I'm gonna carry on."

"_Sir, I really don't think that's such a good idea…"_

"That's an_ order_, Lorne," Sheppard growled.

"_Yes, sir,"_ Evan called back eventually. _"Just... be careful. Please?"_

"Always am, Major," John replied before moving further down the corridor. After a couple of minutes, he reached a partially open door. Calling up the mental image he had of the LSD screen (and thanking his photographic memory), he figured this had to be the room his missing team-mates were in.

_You know this is a really bad idea, don't you?_ asked imaginary Rodney. _You've seen enough movies to know that this is the part where the hero walks into a trap._

Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside, only to find that he had to dive behind a console as a red blast nearly decapitated him. He hissed as he banged his bad shoulder against the unforgiving metal, staring wide eyed at the now smouldering, gaping hole in the wall.

_Told you so,_ imaginary Rodney crowed.

"I _said_ pack it in," John muttered. Figuring that Ronon was probably acting in defence autopilot, he called out, "Easy there, Chewie! It's just me!" He raised his head slowly to peek over the top of his makeshift barricade, only to duck back down again as another volley of shots were aimed in his direction. "Dammit, Ronon! Knock it off!"

"Sorry to disappoint you, John, but the walking man mountain isn't available right now."

The Air Force man bristled as he heard the voice of McKay's double. "Drop dead, you freak!" he yelled

"Manners," his copy called.

"Screw you!" he replied, snapping off the safety on his P-90.

"Didn't you ever learn not to annoy people with weapons?" his double taunted.

"Must've missed that particular class in officer school," John called back. "Why don't you come out and face me like a man?"

Another volley of shots answered him, peppering his hair with chunks of debris and dust as he slunk down even lower behind the console.

_Stop pissing off the guy with the death gun!_ inner Rodney screeched. _Seriously, do you have a death wish or something?!_

Mentally dope slapping his internal McKay, the Air Force man tried to think. If he moved, he'd probably be blasted into the next century. On the other hand, though, he couldn't just sit there forever… He allowed himself a feral grin as a plan formed. He calmly set his gun to single shot (as opposed to his favoured 'rapid burst' setting) before getting ready to move.

"You know, I'll bet you were the kid at school that everyone else was scared of," John said in a conversational tone. He fought to reign in a hysterical chuckle as he pictured his internal Rodney holding his head in his hands in exasperation and dismay. "The little boy who burnt ants and maimed butterflies…"

"Shut up!"

"…the kid who threw stones at other people's pets and set fire to girls' dresses…"

"I said shut your mouth!"

John grinned as his words had the desired effect. If he could unbalance his double, distract the man long enough, he might just be able to make his plan work. "Tell me something – did you look up their skirts before or _after_ you tried to incinerate them?"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!" his doppelganger screamed, voice breaking.

"Aw, gee, did I hit a nerve there?" the Air Force man asked innocently. "I can see it now; you were the weird kid who didn't fit in, weren't you? Not dorky enough to be a geek, but too creepy to fit in with the jocks…"

There was an inhuman growl from across the room.

"Don't listen to him, John," the other McKay hissed. "He's just yanking your chain."

"I take it you never told Rodney you were a thundering loony, then? You never mentioned the fact that you really _enjoy_ hurting people? That it _amuses_ you? Or maybe you just get off on the pain?" As he spoke, John crawled to the side of the console and risked a glance.

Rodney's double was staring at the other Sheppard as if he'd grown horns and a pointed tail. "John?" the scientist asked in an unsteady voice.

"Shut up, McKay," the other Sheppard snapped, his cheeks flushed. "You're not exactly an angel yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean?" McKay demanded. "And by the way, the word 'hypocrite' springs to mind."

"What the hell?"

"I let you beat the crap out of me – with a fucking rock!"

"It's not like I _enjoyed_ it!" Sheppard snapped back defensively. "I only did it once you were off your head on Morphine!"

"That's not the point!"

Despite his disgust at the implications, John smiled to himself. His 'diversion' had worked perfectly, drawing their attention away from himself. Making the pair of them turn on each other hadn't been part of the plan, but as long as they were distracted, the Colonel really didn't care. He silently pulled his knees under his body, bringing himself up, before taking aim.

The other men were so involved in their argument that they didn't notice. "You know what, Rodney? Sometimes, I wish you'd just drop dead, you ungrateful, sanctimonious piece of…"

The sound of the gunshot reverberated around the room, bouncing off the walls and floor for a split second before it was drowned out by agonised screams. John smiled grimly to himself as he saw the other McKay collapse to the ground, clutching at the area just above his right knee. He came frighteningly close to putting another bullet through the man's head out of revenge for his Rodney – as much as he wanted to, though, the Air Force man knew the slippery slope that kind of thinking lead down.

_And besides, I won't kill a man who can't fight back…_

"McKay!" John's double vaulted across from his position, skidding in the pool of blood spreading out from under the scientist as he knelt down next to his fallen team-mate. "Jesus, I didn't mean it _literally_, Rodney!" he hissed, tugging out a pressure bandage. "What're you trying to do? Send me prematurely grey?"

The Canadian simply moaned in response, screwing his face up as his team-mate's ministrations jarred his injury.

_Go on, John, just do it. Pull the trigger and end it. Remember what they did to you?_

The Colonel shook his head, trying hard to ignore the whispering in the back of his mind. "I can't," he said softly, watching the scene in front of him. For a moment, he was taken aback by the look of worry and compassion on his copy's face and wondered if that was how _he_ looked whenever his McKay was hurt.

_Come on, Sheppard,_ the voice cooed. _Don't you remember what they did to Rodney? You almost killed the bastard back there. You __**should **__have done. What's stopping you now? They're a threat and you know it…_

John's finger tightened involuntarily around the trigger as he remembered the way the Canadian had struggled to get away from him when he'd woken up in the cave. His friend's battered face swam in front of him, feeding the angry embers smouldering deep inside his soul, causing the rage to start howling in anticipation. All it would take would be maybe two more shots and the problem would go away – permanently.

_That's not the solution and you know it, John,_ he heard his internal Rodney say. _You're not that kind of man. You're __**better**__ than that…_

And then the Air Force man remembered the way McKay had begged him not to take his double's life. He remembered the horror in his friend's eyes, the way his broken voice had called out desperately.

"No," he whispered. "No, you're right. That's _not_ the way…" He clicked the safety back on, lowering the gun as he did so. "They should have a chance, even if they don't deserve it…"

Scooting around, he stood up, taking a couple of steps forward. "If you lower your weapons, I can get you medical assistance," he called, his hazel eyes flitting between the two men. "Surrender and we'll help you."

Looking back, Sheppard realised how much of a mistake it had been to let his guard drop as far as it did. With a vicious shriek, his double lunged forward, tackling the pilot to the ground in a flurry of fists and teeth. The two of them rolled across the floor, each man desperately struggling for the higher ground, until John managed to grab hold of his double's belt. He tugged hard, uprooting the other man before swinging his arm back and punching his double hard in the face.

The other Sheppard bellowed in pain, spitting out a mouthful of blood as he dragged his feet under him. The two men circled each other warily.

"You know, this really isn't a fair fight," the pilot's copy said, glancing at John's P-90. "You wouldn't shoot an unarmed man, would you?"

John noted his team-mate's cherished gun sticking out from the back of his twin's belt. _Unarmed, my ass_… "I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he shot back, tilting away as his opponent made a clumsy grab for the weapon. "Whaddaya say? How's about we do this properly?"

His double tilted his head to the side as they continued to dance around each other like prize fighters. "I'm game," he replied, grinning. "You first."

"Do you really think I'm that stupid?" John asked, laughing incredulously. "You'd kill me the moment my gun left my fingers."

"Same time it is, then," the other Sheppard said, tugging Ronon's blaster out of his belt. "Ready?" He bent down as if to drop the weapon, but instead of releasing it, his finger looped around the trigger.

John had been expecting as much, though, and sprang forward, swinging his own gun like a club. The P-90 hit his double squarely under the chin, knocking the blaster across the room. Enraged, the other Sheppard grabbed the butt of the semi-automatic weapon, trying in vain to wrestle it away from the Air Force man.

John won the tug of war, but at a cost – the firing mechanism had been badly mangled in the struggle, rendering the gun useless. With a snort of disgust, he tossed it to the side before returning his attention to his twin.

"Just give it up now, huh? You're a Sheppard – you know when to quit." As he spoke, John failed to see the lump of metal his doppelganger palmed as he rose to his feet. The moment he was close enough, the other Sheppard lashed out, catching the Colonel's shoulder. Unbalanced, John staggered backwards, unable to do much as the other man grabbed hold of his jacket.

"Rodney, keep _down,_ dammit!" the other Sheppard called as he caught sight of McKay's double trying to pull himself upright using the console. "What are you trying to do?"

"Help _you_, idiot," the scientist ground out, sweat beading on his forehead from the effort.

"Then stay out of the way and keep your head down! You've got a hole in your leg for Chrissakes!" The other Sheppard looked down at John. "Geniuses, eh?" he asked conversationally before throwing the pilot across the floor. He strode over, grinning as he watched John trying to scramble to his feet. "You got in a couple of good shots earlier. Better even up the score a little." He punched the soldier hard in the face.

John threw a couple of his own but his copy neatly side-stepped them, elbowing the Air Force man in the neck before kicking him in the stomach. John doubled up, groaning as he tried to back away far enough to catch his breath.

His double, however, had other plans.

Without any warning, he aimed a roundhouse kick to John's head that sent the Colonel crumpling to his knees. The other Sheppard then backhanded him as he was trying to struggle upright, grabbing a handful of the pilot's unruly hair and pulling. With a pained shout, John managed to twist free of his copy's grip, kicking out as he pulled himself away. His boot connected with the man's shin, forcing him down onto one knee.

"Hair pulling is how little girls fight, _buddy_," he snarled, thumping his double in the kidney.

"And fair play is for children and idiots," the other Sheppard replied, lunging forward and bringing both men down in a heap of tangled limbs.

John knew that his adrenaline rush wouldn't hold out forever and he was starting to _hurt_ – each and every blow left his arms feeling like lead, while his shoulder screamed angrily at every impact. Ducking to avoid being bitten, he hauled himself upright, swinging wildly but missing. His double immediately lashed out, intending to hit the Air Force man in the stomach, but John avoided the fist, anticipating the move. He swung around, slamming his fist into the side of his double's head.

With a cry of pain, the other Sheppard slammed John into the wall, chuckling as the Air Force man's skull cracked against the metal. Slumping down and momentarily dazed, John was helpless to stop his copy from hauling him to his feet by his jacket.

As soon as his victim was upright, John's copy wrapped an arm around his throat, only to be caught off-guard. John pushed back with all his might, slamming them back into the wall again. Trying to get his twin to release the choke hold, he lifted his foot up and brought it crashing down on his attacker's instep. Surprised, the other Sheppard released his grip, allowing John to elbow him in the throat. As he heard the choked cry, he fell forwards, turning around and scrambling back to see his double coughing and gagging on the floor. He scooted back further, trying to coax swollen and rebellious fingers to gain purchase on his belt buckle knife.

With what looked to be a supreme effort and a lot of pain, the other Sheppard pushed himself to his feet, grabbing at the wall for balance. John cursed under his breath and tugged harder, desperate to free his weapon. His double gave a wet sounding laugh, reaching down to his boot to retrieve his own knife before advancing on the Air Force man with a murderous look in his eyes.

* * *

Lorne was feeling decidedly anxious.

It had been a little over twenty minutes since the partition had slammed down and the Major had heard nothing from Colonel Sheppard. Even more troubling than the lengthy silence was the fact that no one had been able to reach the Air Force man via the radio. Even Zelenka was having difficulties: apparently, there was an unknown ore in the metal of the new wall that was interfering with the radio frequencies. And as for getting the damn thing out of the way…

Not for the first time, Evan found himself wishing that McKay was around. Okay, so he readily agreed that the man drove people nuts and often wondered how Sheppard had put up with him for so long without shooting him, but Rodney really _was _a genius. In all fairness, Radek wasn't exactly an idiot himself (and was a much nicer person to work with), but he wasn't McKay.

"Doc, how much longer is this gonna take?" he barked, pacing up and down the corridor.

"_As long as it takes!"_ the Czech snapped back, clearly reaching the breaking point for his now legendary patience. _"I cannot work with constant interruptions!"_ He trailed off into his native tongue, causing all of the search team to wince as some of the more colourful phrases started flying.

"You sound like Rodney," Evan muttered, not quite under his breath.

"_Well I am not, so you will have to make do!"_ Zelenka snarled_. "And if I __**was **__Rodney, none of you would have eardrums. Kindly shut up so I can work."_

Lorne silenced the sudden burst of sniggering with a well practised glare.

_Bang!_

The sudden noise that echoed down the corridor made everyone jump. "What the hell was _that?!_" Evan demanded sharply, his unease lending his voice a hard edge. "Hennessey! Trevanian! What in God's name have you two been messing with?"

The two marines in question looked up with hurt expressions. "Nothing, sir!" Trevanian protested. "We haven't touched a thing!"

_Bang. Bang. Bang…_

"It's coming from over here, Major," another marine called, motioning to a door. "I think there's someone inside!" He knocked on the metal twice and received two identical thumps in reply.

"Get it open!"

Hennessey prised open the casing to the control panel and began re-arranging the crystals. No sooner had he replaced the last one when the door sprang open to reveal a very angry Ronon Dex. The ex runner was holding Teyla upright; Evan noted the way the Athosian swayed even in her team-mate's firm grip.

"Ronon? Teyla? You guys okay?"

"I'm good," Ronon said, although his face was pinched with pain, "but she needs Beckett."

"I have already told you I am fine," Teyla replied, although her shockingly pale complexion belied her words. "I am just a little dizzy…"

"We'll let the doc be the judge of that," Lorne said firmly, motioning for Hennessey and Trevanian to take her off of Ronon's hands. "And what the hell were you two doing in there?"

"Long story," Dex grunted as he reluctantly passed the Athosian across to the marines. "Where's Sheppard?"

Lorne nodded at the partition. "On the other side of that," he replied, "looking for you two…" He trailed off as a thought struck him. "Wait a minute. If the two of you are out here, then who's in _there?_"

"We need to talk," the Satedan said. "And we need to get that wall out of the way right now…"

* * *

John lurched to the right as his copy's knife cut through the air where his head had been. Through a combination of reflexes and his many years of hand-to-hand combat training, the Colonel managed to turn his fall into a sideways roll. Using the momentum to push himself back up, he shot out a fist – whether it was calculated or by chance, his own blade sliced across his double's face, leaving a bleeding gash on one cheek.

The other Sheppard stopped his attack for a moment, bringing his free hand up to gingerly prod at the wound. When he saw the blood on his fingers, he began to laugh.

"What's so funny?" John asked, being careful to keep a good distance between them. He was rapidly running out of energy, all of his reserves nearing zero, and knew that if he went down once more, he probably wouldn't be getting up again.

In response, his double shrugged, still chuckling. "Maybe we're not so different after all," he said. Unlike the Air Force man, he was practically bouncing, seeming to get stronger as their fight went on.

John snuck a glance over at the other McKay. Although the scientist had barely moved during their scrap, he had managed to prop himself up against a console. _Talk about a ringside seat,_ the pilot thought. He knew that he hadn't hit any major arteries with his earlier shot – after all, if he'd wanted to kill the man, there were much easier ways to do so. However, if left untreated the wound would still turn out to be fatal. Seeing how pale and shaky the Canadian's double was, John decided to try and appeal to his other half's remaining shred of humanity.

"He'll die if he doesn't get medical treatment soon," he said, panting from his earlier exertions. "Is that what you want? His death on your hands?"

"Oh my _God_, you're a moralistic son of a bitch, aren't you?" his copy answered, rolling his eyes. "And FYI, he's not gonna die. For a start, he still owes me fifty bucks. Isn't that right, Rodney?" He looked over at his team-mate expectantly.

"R-Right. No… n-no dying. 'S against the rules," the scientist replied thickly, his words beginning to slur. "Some p-painkillers… would be n-nice, though…"

"You'll get all the Morphine you want, buddy," John's copy said, "just as soon as I've dealt with our little problem." He looked back at the Air Force man with a meaningful glower.

John knew that he couldn't hold on indefinitely. He had enough reserves left to maybe get in another couple of punches before his adrenaline ran out completely – and that wouldn't be enough. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that his plan sucked.

_Even a toddler could've told you that, Sheppard,_ his internal McKay snapped. _You need to get out of here and find some back-up: preferably, a gang of burly marines with lots of firepower. Or a seriously pissed off Ronon..._

The Colonel circled around to put even more distance between himself and his copy, switching his knife to his left hand. He schooled his expression to conceal the wince the movement provoked from his bad shoulder, flexing his fingers slightly. "You know, since you're probably gonna kill me anyway, you might as well answer a couple of my questions first," he said.

"You watch too many movies," his double replied. "This isn't like James Bond, you know. We're not gonna tell you our evil plans for galactic domination!"

"C'mon, what would it hurt?" John wheedled, sounding like a child begging for sweets.

"I suppose," the other Sheppard conceded after a moment, albeit reluctantly. "It'll make it much more enjoyable when I _do_ eventually kill you, knowing that you've got all the answers and can't do anything about it."

_That's not what I've got in mind,_ John thought to himself. Out loud, he said, "Great! So first of all, where's the device?"

"What d-device?" the other McKay asked groggily.

"Your little mind-altering toy," the pilot snarled. "The one that you used to brainwash everyone? You've got to be using something. None of my friends are _that_ naive or stupid." He raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Well? What is it? A necklace? Some kind of funky pocket-sized disc? What?"

Exchanging a look, the others held out their hands, displaying the rings. "These," the other Sheppard said, looking smug.

John rolled his eyes. "You've got to be kidding me! _Rings?!_ That's completely unoriginal, you know."

"Who cares?" his double replied. "They work, end of story." His smile turned vicious. "Oh, and you should have seen the look on your pet gorilla's face when he realised."

John growled audibly. "And that leads me on to question number two – where are the rest of my team? I should warn you that if you've hurt them, I'll kill you."

The other John laughed. "You and what army, pal?"

The icy look on the Colonel's face made his copy stop laughing. "Where _are _they?" John hissed.

"Oh, not far away. They'll probably have been found by your men by now."

Although he was reluctant to believe anything that came out of his psychotic other half's mouth, John did allow himself a small spark of relief at that comment. Knowing Ronon as well as he did, the Air Force man knew that the ex-runner would rather cut off his own arm than let anything happen to the Athosian. And, more importantly, that he'd do anything he could to get through that damned partition...

"So you rigged the ceiling then?" he asked after a moment.

"Th-that was... me," the other McKay said. "C-couldn't have... all your men.... h-helping you out."

"What my learned colleague means is that we had to level out the playing field a little," the other Sheppard said. "Balance the odds, kind of thing."

_Balance the odds, my ass,_ John's inner Rodney sneered.

"Any more pointless questions?" John's copy asked, sounding bored. "Only, if you're done with the 'I need more information' routine, I'd _really_ like to kill you."

"Just one more thing," John said, holding up a hand. "One tiny thing then you can go ahead. These rings – I'm guessing that they're too small to have their own internal power supply."

The others exchanged confused and uneasy glances.

"I mean, the Ancients were smart, but they weren't _that_ clever, huh?" the pilot continued, warming to the subject and talking nearly as fast as an over-excited Rodney. "So it stands to reason that there's some kind of Ancient generator powering them, right? And that this generator is in here somewhere."

"What's your point?" the other Sheppard barked.

"Oh, not much," John replied, with a cheeky grin plastered across his face. "Just wondered is all." He stepped over to the one console in the room that was free of blast marks, noting that both of the other men visibly flinched.

"I thought you were asking questions," the other John said, stepping a bit closer.

"Oh yeah! You're right, that's what I was doing!" John replied happily. "So, my last question is this – what d'you suppose would happen if someone were to blow up the external power source while the two of you still had your 'Mr and Mrs' matching accessories on?" As he spoke, he dropped his hand to the console. "You see, I'm guessing that it would be a _bad_ thing. I've learnt a lot from my Rodney over the years, enough to know a bit about how Ancient systems tend to work. So that means that if I do _this_," he slammed his knife into one of the main controls and wrenched it to the left, "you're both screwed."

The others let out screams of agony as the machine went haywire. The other Sheppard clutched at his head as he fell to his knees, while Rodney's double was trying desperately to wrench his own ring from his hand. Judging from the scene in front of him, John figured that whatever was happening to them had to hurt.

A lot.

Not wanting to stick around to see if they'd recover, John scrambled out of the room, mentally slamming the door shut and locking it to buy him a few extra seconds. As quickly as he could, the Air Force man staggered down the hallway, back towards the partition. Seeing that the rest of the team had had no luck in shifting it, he thumped on the metal.

"Lorne!" he bellowed.

"_Sir?!"_

"_Sheppard, that you?"_

John couldn't stop the massive grin that spread across his face as he heard Ronon's voice. "Yeah, Chewie, it's me. The, uh, the real me, that is."

"_Dr Zelenka says it'll be at least fifteen minutes before he can get this wall up,"_ Lorne replied, sounding stressed.

"We don't have that much time," John answered, moving along the frame and feeling the structure with his hands. "We're gonna have to blow it."

"_Uh, the doc says you can't,"_ Ronon called out. _"It's too thick for that."_

"I don't need to blow the whole damn thing up!" John snapped. "I just need a doorway is all. If I can find a weak point, I've got enough C4 in my utility belt to clear a hole."

"_Sir, I really don't think you should do that,"_ Evan said. _"You could end up bringing the entire section down on your head."_

"John-nnny..."

The Air Force man wheeled around as the voice of his double echoed down the corridor. "Listen, they'll be here any minute and we don't have time to have a debate about structural integrity!" he snarled. "Just get yourselves behind cover!" If Lorne or Ronon voiced any other concerns, John didn't hear them.

He was too busy calculating the best spot to place his explosives.

Hearing footsteps approaching, John attached his C4 pack to the base of the partition, near the left hand corner and set the charge. A quick look around showed him a small alcove about fifteen feet away – much too close really, but he had no other options. He scooted across the floor, tucking himself into the recess as tightly as he could, just in time to see his double and the other McKay stagger into the hallway.

When the other Sheppard caught sight of John, he let out a wild scream, dropping his Rodney to the ground so that he could surge forwards.

Closing his eyes, John grabbed his detonator tightly. "Fire in the hole," he whispered as he pushed the trigger.

* * *

ARGH!!! John done blown himself up! Naughty Air Force man! What about Lorne and the others? And, more importantly, IS **OUR** RODNEY OKAY???

R&R if you want to know!


	18. Chapter 18

Okay, gang, I'm very nearly done with this one. *breathes a huge sigh of relief while the badgers start plotting a sequel*

There'll be one more chapter after this – I need an epilogue to round everything off, methinks – and I hope to have that posted in the next couple of days. Provided, of course, that RL doesn't have a major hissy fit with me again...

And before I forget, many, many thanks for all the support and well wishes from everyone. I know I've said it before, but it really does mean a lot to me. (I'm just glad you're all still enjoying this one.) I gotta say, it feels great to finally have it more or less done. When an idea bounces around your head for so long, it does tend to drive you a little nuts!

So, let's pick up where we left off, shall we? I'll bet our John's got one helluva headache... :p

* * *

**Chapter 18: Double Trouble**

As the metal rained down upon him, John realised that maybe his 'blow the wall up' idea hadn't been such a good one. He tucked his head under his arms, bringing up his knees to shield his face from the shrapnel. That plan worked fine, as long as he wasn't counting the horrible pulling sensation in his bad shoulder followed by the rapidly spreading damp patch across his back. Knowing that he'd pulled his stitches (and was going to get an ass kicking from Carson), the Air Force man grit his teeth and curled up tighter, hoping that the fireworks would stop soon.

On the other side of the partition, Lorne and the others scrambled to get out of the way of the flying metal. Half the team managed to get far enough down the corridor to avoid the firing line, but for Evan and Ronon, it was like hell on Earth. The Major was certain he was going to end up in tiny pieces, but the ex-runner grabbed him in a tackle and sent both of them crashing to the floor just in time to avoid a large and especially sharp piece of the wall that span across the hallway. Pinned under the larger man's weight, there was nothing Lorne could do other than try to breathe until the chaos came to an end.

"Stay where you are!" Ronon snapped as he saw two of the marines trying to crawl towards them. "You're no good to us dead!"

They looked to Evan for confirmation of the order, but he couldn't speak. Instead he simply glowered and tilted his head back in the direction of the temporary shelter where the others were. The men got the message and scuttled back, but neither of them looked happy about it.

Suddenly, the fire suppression system kicked into life, smothering everyone in foam. The partition hissed and popped as it rapidly cooled down, creaking and groaning like something out of an old horror film. Coughing and spluttering, Lorne and Ronon got to their feet, swaying a little as the sudden change in altitude made their heads rush. Once the smoke had cleared, they looked back at the wall and saw that there was a small hole where John had presumably planted the charge.

_How could something so little cause so much chaos?_ Lorne thought to himself as he shook his head in disbelief. It seemed impossible that so much metal had come from such a tiny hole...

"Hennessey!" he barked as he struggled to shake off the sticky fire suppressant. "Get down to engineering and grab a pair of bolt cutters or something! On the double, man!"

The marine saluted and raced away, skidding and slipping over the foam covered floor. With a squeak from his boots and a muffled yelp, he disappeared around the corner.

John, meanwhile, groaned and shook his throbbing head, letting out an involuntary howl as it jarred his shoulder. Blinking to clear his alarmingly blurry vision, he tried to see where the others had ended up – they had been right in front of the explosion.

_There's no way anyone could have survived that_, he thought to himself.

_How much so you wanna bet, Hotshot?_ his inner McKay retorted.

The pilot rolled his eyes, regretting it immediately as it made him feel nauseous. When the urge to vomit had passed, he took a closer look at his makeshift shelter. His entire lower body was buried under an insane amount of debris and as he went to shift his weight, he hissed – something sharp was sticking out of his lower leg.

"Some plan that was, John," he ranted, tugging furiously at the metal. "_I just need a doorway is all! I can make a hole!_ Get you, tiger! Why not blow up half the base while you're at it?!"

"Good question... that m-man. T-Typical military solution... blowing the c-crap out... of everything..."

John growled under his breath. "Rodney, I don't care if you're just a figment of my imagination – I _will_ hurt you if you don't pack it in with the cheap shots!"

"Oh, Johnny..."

The Air Force man froze, his blood running cold as he heard his double's voice and realised that the Rodney who had spoken was _not _the one who seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his head. He looked across the hallway to see the other Sheppard and McKay staggering towards him, without so much as a scratch on their twisted faces.

"That's not possible," John croaked, his fingers growing numb as he clawed at his metal cage. "I saw you both – you were right in front of it. There's no way... I mean... that's just not possible..."

"It is when you've got two fully functioning personal shields," his double shot back, unzipping his jacket to reveal the green, glowing device. He shook his head in mock dismay as he de-activated both of the Ancient doohickeys. "And everyone said you were smarter than you looked."

"Colonel Sheppard!"

"Sheppard, it's Ronon! You okay? Can you hear us?"

"I'd think very carefully about what the next words out of your mouth are gonna be," the other Sheppard hissed, "especially since I've still got this." He reached behind him and pulled out the Satedan's blaster, swinging it round to point the barrel at John's head. "It's a great toy, isn't it? Pity it leaves such a mess behind though."

"Hey!" Lorne yelled, managing to catch sight of what was going on through the small gap. "Drop your weapon!"

"Not again," John's double sighed. "I had enough of that with the giant furball." He twirled around to peer back at Lorne, resting his Rodney on the ground as he did so. "How many times do I have to tell you people this? No. It's a perfectly simple word." He sneered down at the Colonel, tilting his head mockingly. "Haven't you house trained your men yet?"

"Do as he says, Evan," John rasped, trying to subtly shift his impromptu restraints. "That's an order."

Reluctantly, Lorne nodded, holding up his hands. "At least let me through?" he asked, nodding at the space. "Two hostages are better than one – or at least, that's what I've been told."

Ronon grabbed his jacket. "What're you doing?" he hissed angrily.

"Keeping a promise and watching my CO's back," the Major replied just as heatedly. "Someone needs to try and negotiate with them. And besides, I'm smaller than you."

The Satedan wasn't overly impressed by the explanation, or by Lorne's idea, but wasn't in a position to argue. Instead, he bent down next to the twisted metal and pulled a section back out of the way. As Lorne was about to duck through, he grabbed his upper arm. "We'll get the cutting gear too late," he whispered. "You're gonna have to take 'em out somehow."

"With _what_?!" Lorne replied, his voice rising half an octave with incredulity. "There's no way they'll let me in there while I'm armed and it's not like I can hide knives in my hair, is it?"

Ronon tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Suppose that's true. Just... keep them occupied and I'll think of something, okay?"

Evan nodded, looking grim and determined, before turning his attention back to the other side of the partition. "Well? Do we have a deal or not?"

"Alright," the other Sheppard called, "but you come unarmed. One sign of any kind of weapon and Johnny boy will be minus his pretty little head."

Making a display of removing his guns, knives and explosives, and giving Ronon an 'I told you so' look, Evan scooted through the gap. The sight that met him made the Major's stomach roll.

John was only just visible under a mound of metal, a crimson pool slowly creeping out from under him from some unseen injury. The other Sheppard was stood over him, holding Ronon's blaster to his head, while McKay's other half was lying in a crumpled heap. From what Lorne could see, it looked as though he was trying to add another pressure bandage to what appeared to be a bullet wound in his leg.

"Oh, look, fresh blood," the other Sheppard quipped, a twisted version of John's cheeky schoolboy grin on his face.

"What do you want?" Evan asked, trying to slide a little closer to his John. "See, normally hostage situations have ransom demands, and I'm not hearing anything other than the ravings of a Grade A whack job."

"Safe passage back through the city," John's copy replied. "We want a Jumper stocked as before, and access to the Gate."

"Dr Weir won't let you leave Atlantis," the Major said evenly. "Not after what you've done to everyone."

"Dr Weir won't have a choice in the matter!" the other Sheppard snarled, his finger tightening on the trigger of the blaster.

"C'mon, Evan, how many times do I have to tell you? Don't upset the bad guys when they've got guns aimed at your CO," John interjected. "I like my head where it is, thank you." He let out a soft moan. "And some help would be nice."

"Ah, ah! Stay where I can see you," his double said, glowering as Lorne tried to move forward to help John.

"Look, if the Colonel dies you'll lose the best bargaining chip you've ever had," the Major argued. "I've got to get him out of here and patched up before he bleeds to death." He looked across to the other McKay and raised an eyebrow. "And your friend isn't looking too hot either."

"Sh-Sheppard," the other Rodney croaked, trying to drag himself closer to his team-mate.

Without taking his eyes off of Lorne and John, the other Sheppard nodded. "Yeah, okay, you can dig him out. You still with me, Rodney?"

"Just about," McKay's double whispered. "Really... not f-feeling too... g-good..."

"I need you to hang on a little longer for me, okay?" his team-mate replied. "Just a little longer and we'll get you patched up. You'll be back to blowing up spaceships in no time."

"O-kay..."

"Good man."

"Why don't you just go home?" Evan asked, cursing as he caught his hand on a sharp fragment. "Just drop the gun and we'll let you go back through the mirror to your own dimension."

"Bit of a problem with that, Major," John gasped.

"We don't _want_ to go back," the other Sheppard agreed. He looked down at the scientist's leg and cursed softly. "Bullet's still in there, partner," he said.

"My day... is g-getting worse... by the m-minute," the other Rodney whined.

"Now, now, McKay, think positive," John's doppelganger said, fishing around in a pocket. "If we can get the bullet out, I can have you back to normal in no time." He brought out what looked to Evan like a Goa'uld hand ribbon and waggled it in the scientist's face.

The Canadian's face screwed up in fear and he let out a pained whimper. "Do you h-have to?"

His team-mate nodded. "If you wanna get out of here, then yeah, I do. You know how it works, buddy. It'll be less painful in the long run if we can get the bullet out first." He glanced back over to Lorne and John, his eyes narrowing. "Hey, Evan, we'll do a deal. You come over here and help me with Rodney and we'll give you the control crystal for the mirror."

Lorne shared a puzzled glance with John, who nodded minutely. "Go on," he whispered. "It doesn't hurt to stay on his good side."

"But, sir, you're still bleeding..."

"I know that, Major," the Air Force man replied patiently, "but I'll keep for a bit. Besides, it's not like I can't use my own hands, is it?" Seeing the look of resignation on Lorne's face, he nodded in the direction of his double. "Go on, do as he says."

Evan turned slowly and straightened up. "First, I want to see the crystal," he said, with as much authority as he could muster under the circumstances.

"You want proof?" the other Sheppard asked, his eyebrows rising.

"Yeah, if you want to call it that."

The doubles exchanged a glance before the other John shrugged and pulled out a crystal from his team-mate's jacket. "There," he said simply, holding it up in the light. "One crystal. Now get over here."

Evan slipped out of his jacked then walked over to where the other Rodney was writhing in agony. He found it hard to suppress a wince as he saw the extent of the damage. "Hold still," he snapped as he knelt down to take a closer look. "I can't do anything with you wriggling like a snake on a barbeque."

"You heard the man, Rodney," the other Sheppard said. He knelt down, placing the blaster by his feet as he held onto the scientist's shoulders.

"D-Don't like this p-plan," the Canadian whimpered.

"It's better than the alternative," his team-mate replied. He looked up as Lorne. "And a word of warning, Major – one wrong step and I'll kill your precious Colonel. Are we clear?"

Lorne nodded. "Perfectly." He lifted the now sodden material away from the wound. "I need a knife." When neither of the others moved, he lost his patience. "Oh, for Christ's sake! I need a knife to cut his pant leg! You've got a damned blaster that can turn me into mulch! What could I _possibly_ do to you with a knife?!"

Reluctantly, the other Sheppard handed his small blade over. "No tricks," he warned.

"I wouldn't even dream of it," Evan muttered sarcastically as he proceeded to tear off the fabric clinging to the other McKay's wound. He scrunched up his face as blood welled up between his fingers. "You need to hold real still," he said, picking up the blade and pressing the tip against the entry wound.

John had to close his eyes as the other McKay screamed. Although he knew it wasn't _his_ Rodney (and was a psychopathic lunatic to boot), the man was still a version of McKay and his cries tore at the pilot's gut. When they died down to whimpers, he forced himself to look up, and saw Evan dropping the bullet on the ground as he sat back on his heels, wiping sweat from his head with his wrist.

"Done," the Major said. "Now I'll take the crystal if you don't mind."

"You'll get it when the job's done," the other Sheppard snarled. "Get back over there to your Colonel."

"We had a deal!"

"And we still do," the pilot's double said quietly. "But all bets are off if you keep this up. Get back over there or I'll kill both of you and be done with it. You're trying my patience, boy."

Not wanting to provoke the man anymore than he had to, Evan scooted back to John, wiping his blood stained hands on his previously discarded jacket. "How you holding up, sir?"

"Seen better days, Lorne," John replied weakly. "Get me out of here, would ya?"

"No problem, sir," Evan said, tugging at the metal. As he worked at freeing John, he kept half an eye on what the doubles were up to.

The other Sheppard put Ronon's gun next to Rodney's feet so that he could slip the hand ribbon on. Once it was fitted, he took a deep breath, looking down at his team-mate. "You ready?" he asked quietly.

"No," the other McKay replied, shaking. "I h-hate that... thing. It... it always h-hurts."

"I know, but it's either this or you'll bleed to death. Just lie back and think of Atlantis or something."

"F-Funny."

The other Sheppard smiled. "I try." He held his hand out, closing his eyes as he concentrated.

"What's he doing?" John asked.

"He's got a hand ribbon," Evan replied. "He's trying to use it to patch up the Dr McKay's copy." He frowned. "I don't think it'll work though, because you need Naquadah in your bloodstream and..."

"And you only get that if you've been a host to a Goa'uld symbiote," the Air Force man finished. "Is it working?"

"Oh my God..."

"I'll take that as a yes, then..."

They both looked across to the men, their eyes widening in a mixture of horror and awe as the ribbon began to glow and hum. The other McKay closed his eyes and grit his teeth, trying hard not to yell out as the machine started to knit together his skin. The other Sheppard let out a grunt, sweat beading on his forehead from the effort, and flinched when his team-mate lost his battle to remain silent.

The yell echoed around the corridor, but was drowned out by a crash of metal as Evan finally managed to untangle John from the debris. The pilot's copy let out a groan and slumped to the ground, the hand ribbon growing dull once more.

"John?" the other Rodney asked, sitting up. "Hey, Flyboy, you still with me?" He carefully shook his team-mate's shoulder.

"I'm good, Rodney," the other Sheppard replied faintly. "Forgot how much of a headache that thing gives me." He gingerly shook his head and sat up, his eyes moving to the scientist's leg. "How do you feel?"

"Good," the other McKay said. "In fact, I feel great. Look, no holes!" He motioned to his leg.

John and Evan craned their heads to take a look and saw that there was no sign of an injury. "Jesus," Lorne muttered. "We've gotta get one of those."

"Could use it right about now," John replied, gesturing to his thigh. There was a long gash in it from a sharp piece of metal, and the wound was bleeding profusely. He offered up a humourless smile. "Gotta band aid tucked away somewhere?"

Lorne dug around in his jacket and found a pressure bandage, which he hastily opened and applied to John's leg. Once it was secure, he glanced back at the others. "What about our deal?" he asked.

The other McKay got to his feet, hauling John's copy with him. "Ah yes, that's right." He grabbed the crystal and threw it on the floor, smashing it under his boot. "Deal's off."

Before anyone could react, there was a muted explosion from above them. Four pairs of eyes swivelled upwards in time to see the ceiling panels fall to the floor. They were quickly joined by half a dozen soldiers who leapt down from the air vents, all bearing P-90s.

"No one move!" the nearest one barked.

"Hennessey!" Lorne cried. "I told you to get cutting gear, not go all Rambo on us!"

The marine grinned as he watched his men secure the doubles. "I'll take that as a 'thank you for saving our hides', sir," he said. He looked around a little sheepishly before adding, "And besides, Ronon made us do it."

Evan patted him on the leg and smiled. "Job well done, Tom," he chuckled. "Now get those two down to the brig, and don't let them out of your sight. Oh, and make sure you empty their pockets before you go. God only knows what other toys they've got stashed away."

As the team got to work, Ronon jumped down from the ceiling. "Hey, Sheppard," he said, grinning. "Miss me?"

John laughed. "You bet, big guy. Oh, your gun's over there, by the way."

The ex-runner retrieved his weapon, snatching it up and cradling it like a mother would a child. "My baby," he muttered. "Have to clean you later."

"Did you just call that thing your 'baby'?" John asked incredulously, his eyebrows rising.

"Yeah," Ronon replied, looking at the Colonel like he was an idiot. He placed the gun back in his holster before crouching down next to John. "What's your point? You call the Jumpers that."

John tilted his head slightly and frowned. "Suppose I do," he muttered. "Listen, I don't want to betray my cool and manly exterior, but how long til I can get some of the good drugs? Everything's starting to hurt and not in a good way."

"Doc's got a med team on the way," the Satedan said, putting a hand on the Air Force man's shoulder. "Zelenka's getting his engineering boys together to cut a hole in our new wall, but don't worry. We'll get you patched up in no time."

"Any news on McKay?" John asked.

Ronon shook his head. "Not yet," he replied, "but Beckett's good. You know that. If anyone's gonna get him through it, it'll be him."

John nodded and closed his eyes, letting his body finally succumb to the darkness.

* * *

"John?"

The Air Force man opened his eyes to see a fuzzy but concerned Teyla looking down at him. He blinked a couple of times to shake the cobwebs that seemed to be clogging up his head and frowned, his hand reaching up to the Athosian's face. "Teyla?" he croaked. "You okay?"

She smiled warmly at him, taking his hand in her own and resting it to her cheek. "I am fine, John. Dr Beckett tells me that I have a concussion and some bruises, but am otherwise in perfect health." She grimaced slightly and shook her head. "You, on the other hand, are going to be a guest of the good doctor's for a while yet, I fear."

John rubbed his thumb along her cheek, scowling at the bruise he found there. "I'll be up and about before you know it," he replied, giving Teyla a weak smile. "My mom always did tell me I had a thick skull. I knew it'd come in handy some day." Seeing her smile again, the pressure in his chest eased a little and he let his hand fall back to the mattress. "Where's the big guy?" he asked, struggling to sit up.

"I believe Ronon is helping Major Lorne to catalogue all the devices confiscated from your doubles," Teyla replied as she raised the head of his cot. "There were more than we expected, from many different worlds according to Dr Zelenka."

"Well, Rodney'll be happy when he's back in his lab," the pilot said with a grin. "You know how he gets when there's new toys to play with..." He trailed off, looking around the ward. "And speaking of everyone's favourite physicist, where is he?"

The Athosian refused to meet his eyes, and instantly John's heart sank. "Teyla?" he asked in a very small voice. "Where's Rodney?"

"He... He is in Intensive Care," she replied quietly. "There was a lot of damage..."

Looking back later, John knew that Teyla had continued to explain, but he had tuned it out in his desperation to find his missing geek. He ripped the blankets away, pulling out his IV at the same time, and struggled to his feet. For one horrible moment, the room lurched wildly before settling.

"John? John, please, you must get back into bed. You need to rest..."

"No, I need to see Rodney!" John hollered, trying to pull away from his team-mate's grip. "Let go of me!"

"What the devil is going on out here?"

The two of them wheeled around to see Carson striding towards them, his expression somewhere beyond fury.

"Where is he?" John demanded. "Where's Rodney?"

"Colonel, you get back into bed right now, you hear? You'll do nobody any good if you end up on the floor!"

It was at that moment that John's legs decided that they'd had enough and folded up underneath him. If it hadn't been for the strong grip Teyla had on his arm and the fact that Beckett was surprisingly fast, the Air Force man would've had a close and painful encounter with the Infirmary floor. Instead, he found himself being manoeuvred back into his cot. Once he was settled and the black spots had faded from in front of his eyes, he glanced across to the Scotsman.

Carson saw the look of pure terror in his friend's hazel eyes and swallowed hard.

"Doc?" John managed. "Where is he? Why isn't he here?"

"Teyla told you – Rodney's in the ICU at the moment," Carson replied as gently as he could. "His condition is still critical but no longer life threatening." He sighed heavily as he finished taping down the new IV line. "You were right about the infection. It was a nasty bugger and we almost lost him more than once. But he's going to be fine," he added hastily as he saw the pilot about to argue. "In fact, I'm confident that I can upgrade his condition to stable in a couple of days."

"What happened in the OR?" John asked, not really sure why he wanted to know all the morbid details.

Beckett looked down and began fussing with the blankets on the Colonel's bed. "It was touch and go for a while, son," he said eventually, still not meeting John's questioning glance. "Simply put, Rodney's body began to shut down as a result of the shock and blood loss. The infection didn't help matters any, but we managed to get his heart started again quite quickly. There shouldn't be any lasting damage."

John nodded staring at his hands. "I want to see him," he said after several minutes.

"Later," Carson said firmly. His expression softened as he saw the dejected look on John's face. "You need to rest some more, lad," he explained. "You were in a bad way when we got to you. Blood loss, muscular strains, cracked ribs, cuts and abrasions... do I need to carry on with my wee list?"

John shook his head, looking sheepish. "No, doc, I get the picture."

"We'll see how you're feeling once you've finished that IV, okay?"

"Okay."

Carson gave him a warm smile and grasped his shoulder. "Good lad," he said. "Now get some sleep and we'll talk again later."

"You gonna be here when I wake up?" John asked.

For a moment, Beckett looked uncertain but said, "If that's what you want, son."

The Air Force man's head nodded as vigorously as he could manage without being sick. "It is."

The Scotsman nodded. "Then I'll be here."

* * *

True to his word, when John woke up the next morning, Carson was sat next to him. Pleased with his condition, the Scotsman relented and allowed the pilot to see Rodney. Although John wasn't happy about being taken to the ICU in a wheelchair, he held his tongue and allowed Beckett to escort him.

After all, an argument would've done nothing but hold them up.

When they reached the door to Intensive Care, John's stomach flipped wildly, his hands clutching the arms of his wheelchair so tightly that his knuckles went white. The room seemed to spin and stretch and he gasped in a couple of ragged breaths, trying to will his heart to stop fluttering wildly. An icy cold grabbed at him and in spite of the warm blankets over his legs, he shivered. The terror he had felt when he had awoken the day before came crashing back, pulling and twisting his gut, and for a moment, he almost changed his mind.

What if Rodney was in a bad way? What if Carson was trying to protect his feelings by not telling him the whole truth?

"John?" Carson asked. "John, are you alright?"

"I... I'm fine, doc," John replied, his throat feeling as though it was stuffed with sandpaper. "I just..." He shook his head. "Forget it. I'm good."

Carson frowned but pushed his friend through the doors, bringing them to a halt next to Rodney's bed.

The Air Force man had to force himself to keep breathing when he caught sight of McKay. The Canadian was only just visible underneath all the wires and tubes, the bruises on his skin standing out starkly against his far too pale skin. The only sign of life came from the whoosh hiss of the ventilator that forced air into his lungs.

"Steady," Carson muttered, placing a hand on John's shoulder. "He looks worse than he actually is."

John thought that statement was debatable – McKay looked half a step away from dead in his opinion. Without realising what he was doing, the pilot timed his breaths with the ventilator. He hated it when Rodney was in the Infirmary. The man wasn't meant to be so still – he dashed around like an overgrown puppy, getting excited over new devices, plotting pranks, arguing about what movie to watch at Team Night and generally annoying the hell out of anyone and everyone.

_He wasn't meant to be so still..._

"He's in a medically induced coma," Beckett was saying. "It's to give his body the time it needs to heal. It's much kinder to the lad that way, Colonel."

"Is... is he in any pain?" John asked, reaching out hesitantly to grasp hold of one of Rodney's hands. It felt cold and lifeless in his grip so the pilot rubbed his thumb along the back of his friend's hand, trying to instil some warmth.

"No, son," Beckett replied, shaking his head. "I promise, he can't feel a thing. He'll be a little sore when we do wake him, but he'll be alright."

"Can I stay with him for a while?"

"Aye," Carson said. "I had an inkling you might ask as much, so I took the liberty of asking Marie to fetch you some food when you get peckish." He bent down next to the pilot, taking hold of his free hand. "And I'm sure it'd do Rodney the world of good having a familiar voice around."

"Thanks, Carson," John replied, looking across at him. "For... for everything. I..." He looked down at the floor, embarrassed and frustrated at not being able to find the right words. "I don't know how to say what I really mean to but... Thanks."

"Any time, lad. I'm just sorry I didn't realise sooner." He straightened up, leaving an earpiece on the table. "You need anything, you just holler, okay?" Seeing John nod, he smiled and left.

John blew out a shaky sigh as the doors closed and looked back at his geek. "Oh, Rodney," he whispered. "I'm sorry, buddy. I'm so, so sorry." He swallowed hard, looking around to make sure he really was alone before carrying on. "It should be me lying there, not you. _Never_ you. I'm meant to be looking out for you, watching your back and I screwed up, big time."

His throat burned and he had to look away for several moments while he reigned in his emotions. Once he felt he could speak again without losing it, he looked back. "You know what I really need right now, buddy? I need you to wake up and give me seven shades of crap about anything and everything. I won't even argue back. So come on, Rodney, wake up and lay it on me. Don't even think about holding back, either. You just go ahead and tear a strip off me, okay?"

There was no response from McKay other than the ventilator.

"Guess you're not feeling up to that right now, huh?" John asked, a small sad smile forming on his face. "Well, that's okay. You can rip me a new one later. How's about I tell you how I kicked my double's ass? You'll love this..."

* * *

"...And then I slammed him into the wall as hard as I could. Honestly, buddy, I thought I'd broken my back at that point, seeing as how it hurt like a bastard. And guess what? I've christened that knife you got me! I know its taken ages, but I've finally used it for something other than keeping my pants up..."

"Sir?"

John span around in his chair to see Lorne standing in the doorway with the guiltiest look the pilot had ever seen. "Major," he greeted, trying to cover his surprise and mild embarrassment. "What can I do for you?"

Evan motioned to the untouched radio on the table. "We've been trying to contact you for a while," he replied, coming into the room and leaning against the foot of McKay's bed. "You didn't answer our calls, so the doc said I should come down here to see you..."

"Skip to the good part, Lorne," the Air Force man sighed. "I'm assuming that you came here for a more pressing reason than just a social call?"

The guilty look intensified and John's gut clenched. "We've got a problem, sir," the Major said quietly.

"How big a problem are we talking about?"

"Your doubles managed to escape the brig somehow. We still don't know what they did, but we can't get the force field to work anymore."

"So it's a very big problem then," John growled to himself. "I don't know if you noticed, Lorne, but I'm not exactly fit for duty yet..."

"I know, sir, but we're stuck. Edison deployed search teams to comb the city, but we haven't been able to find so much as a stray hair." Evan gripped the railing of the cot tightly. "I spoke to Carson and he said that if you have an escort, you can join in the search."

"Well that was nice of him, wasn't it?" John quipped, tilting his head to the side. "What did you use to bribe him?"

"Two bottles of Scotch and a crate of Athosian fruit rolls," Lorne admitted after a moment. He looked down at the floor sheepishly. "I suck at haggling."

Despite the severity of the situation, John chuckled. "I'd have to agree." He looked around. "Did you bring me a change of clothes or am I gonna have to wander around the city in scrubs? I still have my dignity, you know."

Evan grinned. "Ronon's got a clean uniform outside, sir. He's your designated baby sitter for this little field trip."

John winced. He knew that the Satedan would still be pissed about his blaster and a pissed off Ronon was hard to control. "Alright. Give me five minutes then we're outta here." Watching Lorne leave the room, he bent down to Rodney. "Listen, buddy, I've got some work to do. I know I said I wasn't going anywhere, but this is important. I'll be back before you know it." He squeezed the Canadian's arm lightly before making his unsteady way to the door.

* * *

Half an hour later, John and Ronon were making their way down the corridor that led to the Science labs. The Air Force man had had a hunch – and experience had taught him and the Satedan that it was usually best to listen to his gut instincts in situations like this one.

"You sure you're okay, big guy?" John asked quietly, giving his team-mate a sideways glance.

Ronon snorted incredulously. "You know damn well that I am, Sheppard," he replied, rolling his eyes. "And it should be me asking you that question. You're the one who got beat up."

"Hey, you should see the other guy," John protested, frowning when the ex runner started to chuckle.

As they approached the door to Rodney's lab, they separated: John went left while Ronon crossed to the right. Standing next to the closed door, the Colonel silently counted down from three before swiping his hand over the control.

Much to their surprise, it opened without any kind of protest. They dived inside, bring their weapons up instinctively.

Sure enough, John's theory had been correct – the doubles were stood in front of the mirror. Rodney's copy was inserting an oddly shaped crystal into the control tray of the device, while the other Sheppard was leaning against a nearby workbench. Neither man seemed to have noticed their new guests, so John and Ronon slowly edged closer, taking care to make as little noise as possible. Once they were in position, the Air Force man stood up as straight as his injuries would allow, bringing up his P-90.

"Hold it!" he barked gruffly.

"God, you just don't know when to stay down, do you?" his double sneered, moving closer to the other Rodney.

"I said, hold it!" John repeated. "Stop what you're doing and turn around!"

"I'd do what he says if I were you," Ronon added softly, his lip curling up into a snarl.

Instead of complying with the order, McKay's doppelganger pushed a symbol on the front of the mirror, causing it to activate. All four sets of eyes were drawn to the rippling surface.

"We'll be off now," the other Rodney said amiably. "We know when we've overstayed our welcome."

Confused, John took a step closer. "Why are you going back?" he asked uncertainly. "I thought you said you were wanted men."

"Oh we are," his copy replied, "but we never said anything about going back to _our_ reality, did we?"

"I thought the little man said this thing only goes one way?" Ronon said, his forehead creasing in confusion.

"I'm with Ronon on this one," John added.

"Come on, John, you're smarter than that!" Rodney's copy taunted, placing his hands on his hips. "You're looking at a genius here, after all!" He smirked as a thought struck him. "You didn't really believe that fairy tale about the mirror only going one way, did you?"

"But McKay said..."

"We lied," John's double snorted, looking at the pilot like he was an idiot. "We're bad guys. We tend to do that." He looked across at his partner and grinned. "And now, if you don't mind, we're going. Maybe we'll send you a postcard or something, drop in one of these days, see how you're doing."

"Over my dead body," John growled, cocking his weapon and snapping off the safety.

"Promises, promises," his copy sneered.

Before either of them could react, the two men jumped through the portal and vanished. Seconds later, it shut down, leaving a very bewildered John and Ronon staring at their own reflections.

"What the hell?" the Satedan breathed.

"Yeah," John replied, shaking his head. "Tell me about it." He crossed over to the control tray and ripped out all the crystals, smashing them under his boot. "Ain't no way in hell they'll be back," he snarled. For good measure, he also thought 'off' at the device and was rewarded when the dull humming ground to a halt.

"What do you want to do?" Ronon asked, putting his gun away. He let out an angry sigh – he'd really wanted to take a chunk of them with him.

"We lock it up," John replied quickly. "We lock it away where no one will find it. Nobody touches it ever again." He spun on his heels and stalked out of the lab, Ronon following him and barking orders to Edison's team.

"What are you gonna do now?" the Satedan asked, although he had a pretty good idea.

"Now? Now I'm gonna go back to the Infirmary and keep my best friend company," John replied quietly. "Can you supervise the teams with the mirror?"

"You need to ask?" Ronon asked incredulously. "I'm on it."

John smiled and patted the huge man on his arm. "Appreciate it, buddy," he replied.

"Tell McKay he better get his ass up and out of bed soon or I'll make him have extra hand to hand sessions."

"I'll do that," the pilot called back as he stepped into the transporter.

As the doors closed, he let out a sigh that was part relief and part frustration. Although he was glad to see the back of their doubles, he wanted justice for what had been done to Rodney, to Ronon and Teyla... to himself. He had wanted so badly to throttle the pair of them, to see them begging for mercy just like they'd made McKay beg back in that cave.

But when it really came down to it, that wasn't his style.

He closed his eyes, taking a moment to compose himself. Rodney needed him to be calm and level headed right now, not a raging inferno of anger and guilt. Once he felt steadier, he opened his eyes again and pressed the screen, the last of his rage fading away in the bright white light of the transporter.

* * *

Ooh-er! They've buggered off! Hooray! Anyways, last chapter coming up soon, but don't expect a ridiculously happy ending...


	19. Chapter 19

So here we are, gang, the end of the road!

*rocks back and forth, sending up prayers of thanks to various unnamed deities*

Anyways, here's the last bit – but like I said, don't expect sunshine and rainbows now we're at the end. Writing a humorous, bright, happy ending really didn't fit at all well with the rest of this story, so it's more downbeat and low key than my usual offerings. That said, it's not _too_ bleak!

Enjoy.

* * *

**Epilogue:**

John and Rodney sat on the east pier, drinking beer and staring at the sunset. It had been two weeks since the fiasco with their demented doubles and both of them were finally starting to come to terms with the ordeal they'd been through.

For Rodney, that had proved to be easier said than done. Although he had been discharged from the Infirmary, he had a ways to go before he'd be cleared for active duty. His wrist had been repaired once again, encased in an uncomfortable cast, and he had to walk with the aid of a crutch thanks to the damage to his hip and thigh. Luckily, there had been no long term hurt from his concussion, but he occasionally stumbled over his words and had to think carefully before attempting lengthy sentences. Carson had assured him that it would pass in time, but Rodney McKay was not known for his patience.

John had taken the brunt of his friend's frustration in the first week, sitting silently as the Canadian vented disjointedly about his current predicament, offering support the only way he could. Heightmeyer had encouraged him to engage McKay in their usual verbal sparring matches to try and kick start his brain so John goaded his friend into sarcastic, banter-filled fights. Much to their delight, it had begun to work.

They both struggled at night, however – each of them suffered horrific nightmares, which usually ended up with one of them sleeping on the other's couch when the terror became too much for them to handle alone. In all fairness, John wasn't too bothered – he wouldn't admit it publicly, but he had panic attacks whenever Rodney was too far away. The last one had been at lunchtime, when the scientist had left the mess while John had been grabbing an extra cookie. When the pilot turned around to see his friend gone, his heart had literally leapt into his mouth and he'd bolted from the room only to bump into McKay in the hallway. Rodney had been alarmed at the state John was in and had dragged him into an empty lab where he tried to calm his friend without the curious stares of passers-by.

Once he had gotten to the root of the problem, McKay promised that for the foreseeable future, he'd make sure he was within sight of Sheppard. In return, John agreed to speak to Heightmeyer.

McKay brought his bottle up to his lips and took a long swig, tilting his head back against the cool metal of the city wall. He let out a long, shaky sigh.

"What's up, buddy?" John asked, peering at his team-mate in concern. "Got another headache?"

And then there were the headaches.

Rodney's beatings had left him prone to migraines of varying strengths. More often than not, they made sleep impossible – but on the rare occasions that he did manage to get some shut eye, he would sleep fitfully, tossing and turning as unseen horrors played out behind his eyes.

"No," the physicist replied softly. "I was just thinking is all."

"Anything you feel like sharing?"

Rodney gave a strange laugh that sounded more like a sob than anything else. _No, not really_, he thought. Deciding to change the subject, he asked, "Have you spoken to Elizabeth yet?"

John grimaced, trying to hide his expression behind his beer. The leader of Atlantis had been pestering him to write up his official report for a couple of days now, and was insisting that he and Rodney take some time off. She had mentioned sending them back to Earth to recuperate, but neither wanted to go.

After all, there wasn't really that much for them back home, apart from Jeannie.

The Air Force man wasn't entirely sure why he was having such a difficult time writing this particular report. It wasn't the first time one of his team had been kidnapped, or beaten, but something deep in his gut rebelled every time he sat down in front of his laptop.

"Not yet," he answered, closing his eyes. Visions of blood swam in front of him and he quickly opened them again, blinking to dispel the fear.

"Can I ask you something?"

John smirked and looked across to Rodney. "Fire away."

McKay fidgeted for several moments before he looked down at his beer bottle. He absentmindedly began to pick at the label, his forehead creasing in a frown as he tried to sort the words out in his head. It really shouldn't have been that difficult to form a coherent sentence, and Rodney knew it. Words weren't something he normally had a problem with, concussed or not. Not being able to communicate properly was starting to drive him a little crazy.

Recognising the problem, Sheppard reached across and placed his hand over his friend's, stopping the agitated movement. "Take your time," he said gently. "I ain't going nowhere."

Giving John a grateful smile, Rodney nodded. "I... I remember someone talking to me... when I was..."

"In a coma?"

"Yeah," the scientist replied, nodding thankfully. "I'm pretty sure it was you."

"What makes you say that?" asked John, his eyebrow rising inquisitively.

McKay shrugged. "Dunno," he said, looking back down at his drink. "Just... got a feeling." _Because I heard you, dumbass. I heard you trying so hard to get me to wake up but I couldn't. I didn't want to open my eyes and find that I'd been dreaming..._

"Okay. Do you remember what I was saying?"

"Yeah," Rodney replied quietly, nodding his head. "You said it was your fault. You said you didn't protect me l-like you... should've done. That you'd... that you'd messed up."

John felt his cheeks flush with shame, but Rodney didn't notice.

"You were wrong."

The Air Force man blinked. "What?" he asked sharply, stunned.

"You were wrong," the Canadian repeated calmly. "It wasn't your fault, Sheppard."

"I let those lunatics take you!" the pilot hissed angrily. "I should've done something... anything..."

"No." Rodney looked up at his friend, tears brimming and threatening to overspill from his blue eyes. "Don't you get it, you stupid b-bastard? You _saved_ me. You found me, got me home. There's nothing for you to... be ashamed about."

John swallowed heavily, blinking back his own tears. The guilt he had felt while waiting for McKay to recover returned, threatening to engulf him completely. "Rodney, I..."

"No, John," McKay insisted. "There's n-nothing to forgive." He reached out and grasped Sheppard's hand, holding on tightly. "I wanted to say... thank you."

John squeezed Rodney's hand, bringing up his knees. _Since when did you get so good at reading me, buddy? _He laid his head on them, trying to hide his face to stop his team-mate from seeing him crying, but Rodney was determined. He gently grabbed the pilot's chin and tilted it up.

"You really are dumb, Colonel," Rodney chided gently, his own face damp.

John snorted despite himself, wiping his face on his sleeve. "Thanks, buddy," he replied sarcastically, but his eyes softened the sting of the words. _What did I do to deserve you as my best friend?_

Rodney nodded, understanding. "I knew you'd get me," he said after a while. "Never doubted for... second."

_I sure as hell did,_ John thought bitterly. He shook his head and cleared his throat before downing the remains of his beer. He tilted the bottle in McKay's direction. "Want another one?" he asked.

Rodney bit his lip, thinking carefully. "Why not?" he replied after a moment.

With fresh beers to provide more courage, John took a deep breath and decided to have what felt like his very first serious conversation. "When I woke up in the Infirmary after they'd taken you, I was frantic," he admitted quietly. "And then when I thought I wasn't gonna be able to get you back to Carson in time, it felt like something... died inside me a little." He gave a humourless chuckle.

Rodney nodded, not sure of what to say.

"I really thought we'd had it this time," the Air Force man continued, staring at the ocean. "But... the thing that got me through was the thought that at least we'd go out together, you know?"

"Yeah," Rodney replied, "but I'm glad... we didn't. I p-prefer... living."

"God, I hate this emotional crap!" the pilot said, his chuckle rising into a semi-hysterical laugh.

"Easy," the Canadian muttered, bumping his shoulder against his team-mate. "We're safe now. You don't have to... w-worry about me anymore."

"That's where you're wrong, Answer Man," Sheppard said. "We're best friends. Best friends worry about each other, even when they don't have to."

Rodney couldn't help the smile that lit up his face, and John grinned back, glad to see his friend looking more like his old self. "You're right about the... emotional crap," McKay said. "S-Sucks."

"I'll drink to that."

They both took a swig from their respective bottles. "Why're you... av-avoiding everyone?" Rodney asked suddenly. "Wasn't their fault."

"I know that," John shot back, his tone defensive. "I know," he repeated more softly, "but I can't help it. You didn't see the look on Lorne's face when he thought I was my other half. You didn't see Carson trying to be neutral, thinking that he had to help the two men responsible for your injuries." His face darkened, his hands clenching into fists. "You didn't hear all the meaningless apologies, or have to face the guilty looks from anyone who happened to pass you in the corridor!" The Air Force man's voice got louder as he grew more agitated. "You didn't think that your best friend was gonna die at any minute!"

"John, stop it," Rodney whispered, his own voice raw. "Just... stop it, please."

Seeing the look of pain on McKay's face, Sheppard let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, buddy. Didn't mean to yell at you like that. It's just... It'll take some time, you know? To trust people again."

"I know," the scientist replied. "And... stop s-saying sorry. It doesn't suit... your hotshot f-flyboy image."

Sheppard snorted. "And what would you know about that?" he teased.

"I wish I could've... had a l-look at those rings," McKay said wistfully. "Would've been cool."

"That's true, but don't forget, it was the rings or me," John said. "I'm sure we'll find some more. And besides, why are you moaning? You've got a whole treasure trove of goodies waiting for you to tinker around with."

Rodney grinned as he thought about the devices confiscated from their twins. If nothing else, it was the one good thing to come out of the whole episode. "D'you wanna help m-me test them out?" he asked.

"You've got a date." John stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. "I wonder where they are now," he said. "They could be in any one of a billion other universes making a nuisance of themselves." He glanced across at his friend. "Any ideas, buddy?"

"To be p-perfectly honest, Sheppard, I d-don't give... a rat's ass," Rodney replied, his tone venomous. "The only thing that matters is... that they're n-not here."

For a moment, John was stunned by the response, but quickly found himself agreeing with his learned companion.

Before either could say anything else, the doors swished open. Craning their heads to look, the boys watched as Teyla and Ronon silently walked out onto the pier and approached them.

"Hey, guys," John greeted with a small smile. "What's up?"

"May we join you?" Teyla asked.

Exchanging a glance, the pair nodded. "Why not?" John replied. "Pull up a pew."

"Ain't no pews here, Sheppard," Ronon grunted as he sank to the floor and tucked his legs up.

"It's a f-figure of speech, Conan," Rodney shot back, grinning wickedly.

"How are you both doing?" the Athosian asked with concern. "We have not seen much of either of you except at the mess." Her gaze flickered down to her hands. "We wondered if perhaps you did not wish to see us."

Sheppard reached across and gently pulled her head up. "No," he said forcefully. "Hell, no. We just... needed some space to think."

"Told you so," the Satedan whispered loudly.

"We wanted to apologise for..."

"No," Rodney said, shaking his head. "No more saying sorry from anyone! I'm sick of the word 's-sorry'!" He glowered at his two team-mates. "Nothing to apologise for, n-nothing to forgive. Got that? Or do I n-need to put it into simpler t-terms for you?"

Ronon and Teyla sat looking stunned at the physicist's outburst, but John grinned. That was definitely more like the McKay he knew and loved.

"Okay, little man," Ronon said after a minute or two. "You win. We won't apologise, okay?"

Rodney nodded happily as he passed the huge man a bottle of beer.

For a while, the team simply sat in amicable silence, looking up at the sky and the lights from the city. In all honesty, there was no real need for any words – they were all just happy to be together and in more or less one piece.

Eventually, Teyla flicked her gaze back to John and Rodney. She was still worried for them – neither man had their spark or snap, their banter was too forced to be completely natural. It was as if their doubles had stolen their spirits, had... _tamed_ them somehow. "You both seem troubled still," she said quietly. "Are you thinking about your other selves?"

"You should let it go," Ronon added, catching on. "There's no use in worrying about it now, is there?"

Rodney sighed. "I suppose, but... I can't help b-but wonder... where they went."

"I thought you said you didn't give a rat's ass?" John asked, a puzzled frown shadowing his boyish features.

"I changed my mind," McKay replied quietly. He looked panicked for a moment as he turned to the Air Force man. "You _did_ d-disable the m-mirror, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Sheppard replied, "and I smashed that damn crystal too." He snaked an arm across Rodney's shoulders. "Unless you've got a spare hidden away somewhere, they're not coming back here, Answer Man."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"We would never allow either of them anywhere near you, even if they did return," Teyla stated, trying to reassure her team-mate. She reached out and placed a hand on Rodney's knee.

"Teyla's right, little man," Ronon added. "They so much as breathed in your direction, I'd kill 'em myself."

Rodney looked grateful and nodded.

John felt the tremors running along McKay's frame and frowned. Convinced there was more to it than Rodney had let on, he said, "C'mon, buddy, spill it. What's really bugging you?"

"It's nothing really..." Rodney began, trying for dismissive. When he saw the disbelieving looks on his friends' faces, he winced and looked away. "Oh, alright. If you m-must know..." He looked up at the stars, a scowl forming on his face. "...I get the f-feeling that they're... they're out there somewhere... in the darkness, j-just waiting, you know? I..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"You?" John prompted when the silence went on for a beat too long.

"I... I wanted to b-believe that... that there was n-no way he could... be me but now, I'm not so sure," McKay said. "If it only t-takes one... one small thing to go the way... he-he did..." He shook his head once more, this time in frustration at not being able to find the right words to explain properly, to let his friends understand how he was feeling. "And b-before any of you say anything... I know, okay? _I know_. I'm _not_ h-him, but..."

"You're thinking you _could_ be," John finished, understanding what was eating away at his geek.

Rodney nodded, looking scared, and for a moment, John saw a frightened, vulnerable little boy desperately seeking reassurance against the darkness. "Yeah," the scientist whispered. "G-Guess you've been thinking about it t-too, huh?" Seeing John nod, he relaxed slightly.

"You are a _good_ man, Rodney," Teyla insisted. She looked over to Sheppard before adding, "You _both_ are."

"Anyone who says otherwise is a liar," Ronon growled. "I don't know what made them the way they were, but you'll _never_ end up like that." He looked across to his Athosian team-mate. "We won't let you. Either of you."

"Appreciate that, guys," John said, smiling.

"I... I can't help th-thinking that... it's not the l-last we've seen of them," Rodney said, still trembling under John's grip.

The Air Force man pulled him into a sideways hug. "Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, okay? Anyways, we beat 'em once. We can take 'em again." He relaxed a little as he heard McKay's soft chuckle. "Let's talk about something else for now, hmm?"

"Such as?" the physicist asked.

John thought for a moment before giving Rodney a goofy grin. "How about Ferris Wheels?"

**FIN**

* * *

So there you go! All done! HUZZAH!!! Ahem.

Bye for now!

Flossy


End file.
